Education  rt 
Jacqueline 

By  Claire  de  Pratz 


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THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 


THE  EDUCATION  OF 
JACQUELINE 


BY 

CLAIRE  DE  PRATZ 


NEW  YORK 

DUFFIELD  AND   COMPANY 

1910 


Copyright,  1910, 
DUFFIELD  &  COMPANY 


Je  dedie  ce  livre 

a 

Lady  Grove 

dont  y admire  le  talent 

et  dont  je  cherts  Vamitie 


2137773 


CHAPTER  I 

Francoise  Reville  was  crooning  her  fatherless 
daughter  to  sleep  in  the  dimly  lighted  room.  Her 
voice  sounded  soft  and  rang  with  sadness  as  she  re- 
peated the  familiar  lullaby: 

Do  do,  bebe  do, 
L'enfant  dormira  tantot. 

FranQoise  looked  at  the  child's  peaceful  little  face 
and  once  more  noticed  with  delight  the  likeness  of 
Jacqueline  to  her  father.  Although  the  child  lay  rest- 
fully  in  its  tiny  cot,  the  mother  swayed  her  body  back- 
wards and  forwards  as  she  sang,  moving  with  the 
rhythm  of  the  ticking  clock  on  the  mantelpiece  of 
the  darkened  room. 

Do  do,  bebe  do, 
L'enfant  dormira  tantot. 

A  softly-shaded  lamp  shed  its  rosy  radiance  over 
the  writing-desk  between  the  two  tall  windows  open- 
ing on  to  the  quiet  provincial  street  that  was  deserted 
every  evening  after  seven  o'clock.  An  intense  calm 
reigned  around,  which  was  broken  only  now  and  again 
by  the  noise  of  crockery  being  washed  in  the  kitchen. 

FranQoise  turned  from  the  contemplation  of  her 


4      THE  EDUCATION   OF   JACQUELINE 

child  and  gazed  round  the  room  with  its  high  luxu- 
rious bed  draped  with  silken  hangings — with  its  lofty 
mirrored  wardrobe  of  polished  walnut  wood  that 
matched  the  bed — with  its  portieres  of  silk,  like  those 
of  the  huge  bed,  half  covering  a  doorway  that  led  to 
a  smaller  dressing-room  beyond.  This  room  had  been 
hers  during  the  five  years  of  her  married  life  with 
her  dear  husband,  Adrien  Reville,  whom  death  had 
claimed  suddenly,  imperatively,  without  warning,  less 
than  a  month  ago.  Here  her  little  girl — ^her  four- 
year-old  baby — Jacqueline  had  been  bom,  and  here 
she  had  prayed  by  the  side  of  her  husband's  dead 
body  before  they  had  placed  him  in  his  coffin.  In 
this  room  she  had  lived  the  intensest  years  of  her  life. 

When  Adrien  had  brought  her  to  her  new  home  in 
Rouen  only  a  few  hours  after  the  wedding  ceremony 
at  Vitre,  she  had  been  a  young  girl  of  twenty-two — 
as  totally  ignorant  of  life,  of  the  mysteries  of  life 
and  of  marriage,  as  only  a  young  French  girl  can  be. 
Brought  up  by  careful  parents  in  view  of  a  husband 
who  would  demand  not  only  an  innocent  but  also  an 
ignorant  wife,  her  convent  education  had  but  empha- 
sized her  home  training.  The  good  nuns  had  taught 
her  her  Catechism,  the  Lives  of  the  Saints  and  les 
bonnes  maniires,  besides  sufficient  French  grammar 
and  syntax  to  enable  her  to  write  a  stilted  conven- 
tional letter.  Her  mother  had  taught  her  to  sew,  to 
embroider  and  to  cook.  But  of  the  realities  of  life 
or  of  human  nature,  she  knew  nothing. 

And  now  she  was  a  widow,  not  thirty  years  of  age, 
alone  in  the  world  with  her  daughter,  a  child  of  four, 


THE   EDUCATION   OF   JACQUELINE      ^5 

without  a  single  relation,  with  very  few  friends  and 
with  the  entire  responsibility  of  shaping  two  lives, 
henceforth  upon  her  shoulders. 

Jacqueline! — ^her  little  child!  her  only  darling — ^the 
one  thing  she  now  had  in  the  world  to  love !  And  she 
gazed  upon  the  child  with  hungry  eyes.  Shortly  they 
would  be  leaving  this  roof  together — she  and  Jacque- 
line— leaving  this  home,  this  room,  this  refuge — to  go 
forth  alone  in  a  strange  city,  among  new  surroundings 
and  in  very  reduced  circumstances. 

Even  now  Fran^oise  could  hardly  realize  what  had 
happened  to  her  during  the  last  month.  Events  had 
rushed  so  quickly  since  the  evening  when  Adrien  had 
returned  from  a  short  business  visit  to  Paris  and  com- 
plained of  having  caught  a  chill  in  the  train  on  the 
return  journey.  Two  days  later  the  doctor  had  in- 
formed Frangoise  that  there  was  very  little  hope  of 
saving  him  and  three  days  later  Adrien  was  dead. 
Her  love,  her  husband,  the  father  of  her  little  Jac- 
queline— and  the  one  creature  who  was  her  very  law  I 
Yes;  he  was  dead! 

Then  had  followed  terrible  days  when  she  had  been 
forced  to  turn  from  all  her  regrets  for  Adrien  and 
repress  her  tears  to  think  only  of  practical  issues — 
for  there  was  no  one  to  turn  to  for  help  or  even  for 
advice.  She  had  lost  both  her  parents  during  the  first 
three  years  of  her  wifehood,  and  Adrien's  had  both 
died  before  she  had  met  him.  There  was  Pomm,  of 
course,  her  husband's  great  friend;  but  he  was  not 
much  good  for  practical  things,  and  besides  he  was 
away  in  China  upon  his  naval  duties.    Frangoise,  who 


6      THE   EDUCATION   OF   JACQUELINE 

Had  never  thought  for  herself,  who  had  been  as  a 
child  in  the  hands  of  A'drien,  who  had  never  acted  in 
any  way  except  under  his  direction  and  with  his  ad- 
yice  or  sanction,  was  now  forced  to  rely  upon  her- 
self, and  herself  alone — ^to  think,  to  plan,  to  decide, 
and  to  defend  her  own  interests  as  well  as  those  of 
her  daughter. 

In  the  midst  of  her  sad  musings,  the  sleeping  child 
murmured  fretfully  and  stirred  upon  her  pillows,  and 
mechanically  Frangoise  chasing  away  harrowing 
thoughts,  though  her  heart  was  heavy  as  lead,  mur- 
mured once  more  the  soothing  lullaby : 

Do  do,  bebe  do. 

Like  all  French  mothers  of  her  generation,  Fran- 
^oise  allowed  no  hireling  to  tend  her  child.  It  was 
she  who  bathed  and  put  her  to  bed  every  night  of  her 
life  and  sang  her  to  sleep  holding  her  hand.  There  is 
little  other  method  or  system  of  education  in  the 
French  mother's  mind  for  very  little  children  but  just 
the  tender  ministering  from  mother  to  child  which 
creates  a  link  between  them  that  lasts  for  ever,  and 
that  no  divergence  of  opinion  or  of  tastes  in  after  life 
can  ever  entirely  destroy. 

As  the  child  lost  consciousness  once  more  and 
silence  again  engulfed  the  room,  the  gaze  of  Fran- 
goise  penetrating  the  gloom  seemed  to  see  once  more 
before  her  the  form  of  her  beloved.  At  the  foot  of 
the  wide  bed,  between  the  writing-desk  and  the  white 
lace-covered  dressing-table  whence  the  polished  tor- 


THE   EDUCATION   OF   JACQUELINE      7 

toise-shell  and  crystal  ornaments  shot  fortH  scintil- 
lating touches  through  the  darkness,  she  saw  Adrien's 
tall  frame  as  she  had  seen  him  living,  the  night  be- 
fore he  had  left  her  for  the  fatal  journey — ^his  eyes 
tender  and  loving,  his  white  teeth  gleaming  through 
his  smile. 

He  left  her  that  last  evening  so  gay  and  joyous, 
as  if  the  short  journey  to  Paris  were  a  keen  delight 
to  him.  She  had  always  been  somewhat  pained  by 
his  evident  eagerness  to  leave  Rouen  and  to  take  his 
regular  small  trips  to  Paris — the  city  of  charm  and 
allurement.  That  he  was  separated  from  her  and 
from  his  child  during  these  trips  did  not  seem 
to  affect  him,  though  Frangoise's  own  tender  heart 
always  felt  a  pang  each  time  he  left  them  both  so 
merrily.  On  this  last  journey  how  she  had  implored 
him  to  take  her  with  him — just  this  once  for  a 
change.  But  he,  smilingly,  had  put  her  off  as  always, 
saying  that  a  mother's  place  was  with  her  child ;  that, 
besides,  it  would  be  absurd  to  take  one's  wife  with 
one  to  business  appointments  at  the  Ministry  of  Fi- 
nance. 

For  after  their  marriage  five  years  before  Adrien 
Reville,  who  had  been  an  attache  at  the  Min- 
istry of  War  for  many  years,  had  been  appointed 
Perce pteur — that  is  to  say,  an  officer  of  the  Inland 
Revenue — at  Rouen,  two  hours  from  Paris.  And 
here  the  young  couple  had  lived,  in  a  charming  little 
house  with  a  large  garden  on  the  outskirts  of  the 
town,  some  distance  from  the  office  of  Adrien's  Per- 
ception.    Here  little  fair-haired  and  dark-eyed  Jac- 


8      THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

queline  had  been  born.  All  through  the  five  years  of 
his  residence  in  Rouen,  Adrien  had  been  forced  to  go 
up  to  Paris  about  once  a  week  to  the  Ministry  of 
Finance.  But  he  never  allowed  his  wife  to  accompany 
him,  notwithstanding  her  entreaties.  His  opinion,  he 
explained,  was  that  a  young  wife  does  better  to  keep 
to  the  simpler  ways  and  customs  of  the  provinces. 
Frequent  visits  to  Paris  were  always  demoralising  for 
young  married  women,  and  the  sight  of  the  luxuries 
of  Paris  life  might  suggest  tastes  that  were  not  seemly 
in  an  economical  provincial  wife.  And  of  course 
Frangoise  had  been  subservient  to  Adrien's  judgment. 
For  her,  Adrien  was  always  right. 

As  she  dwelt  upon  these  memories  of  the  past,  that 
were  still  so  near  her,  she  stopped  crooning  her  song, 
and  the  spoilt  babe,  already  so  unconsciously  used  to 
its  mother's  soothing  voice  as  it  slumbered,  burst  out 
again  into  an  angry  cry,  as  if  in  protestation.  So 
Frangoise  let  her  vision  fade  away  and  took  up  her 
singing  once  more. 

Do  do,  bebe  do. 

And  again  the  child  slept. 

Then  Frangoise,  rising  softly  so  as  not  to  rouse  the 
sleeping  child,  left  the  side  of  the  cot  and  turned  again 
to  the  writing  desk  at  which  she  had  sat  most  of  the 
afternoon,  sorting  old  letters,  arranging  and  classing 
together  paid  bills,  etc.,  for,  leaving  the  house  in  a 
short  time,  she  was  anxious  to  put  all  her  affairs  as 
well  as  those  of  her  late  husband  in  order.    The  news 


THE   EDUCATION   OE   JACQUELINE      9 

occupants  of  the  house  were  to  settle  into  it  in  about 
a  fortnight.  The  wife  of  Adrien's  successor  had 
visited  the  villa  from  basement  to  garret  and  had  de- 
clared herself  satisfied  with  her  inspection.  Her  hus- 
band had  therefore  taken  on  the  remaining  part  of 
the  lease,  and  Frangoise  had  already  been  up  to  Paris 
to  seek  a  new  abiding-place  for  herself  and  her  child. 
She  had  signed  the  lease,  for  three  years,  of  a  flat 
near  the  Place  Wagram.  She  had  also  arranged  to 
sell  the  larger  part  of  her  furniture  to  the  new  occu- 
pants of  her  present  house.  The  rest  she  was  to  take 
with  her  to  Paris. 

The  bureau  of  her  dead  husband  was  of  a  solid 
Henri  11.  design,  the  top  forming  a  large  square 
writing-table.  From  the  floor  at  the  two  sides  rose 
thick  square  columns  that  each  held  six  drawers.  Each 
separate  drawer  was  fitted  with  a  strong  lock.  Fran- 
Qoise  had  never  touched  this  bureau  during  her  hus- 
band's lifetime.  He  had  told  her  that  the  most  im- 
portant papers  which  concerned  the  Perception  were 
kept  there  and  that  its  contents  were  officially  pri- 
vate. 

In  the  strong  iron  safe — in  the  left-hand  corner  of 
the  room  close  to  the  writing-desk — ^he  kept  under 
lock  and  key  the  various  sums  collected  at  the  Per- 
ception, which  he  paid  in  to  the  Ministry  at  only  stated 
intervals.  According  to  French  law,  this  safe,  as 
well  as  all  the  other  pieces  of  household  furniture  pro- 
vided with  locks  and  keys  had  been  sealed  up  by  the 
local  authorities  after  Adrien's  death.  But  when 
these      formalities      were      over,      Frangoise      had 


lo     THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

taken  into  her  possession  the  bunch  of  keys  upon 
which  were  those  that  opened  not  only  the  safe  but 
also  the  drawers  of  the  bureau.  During  the  whole 
the  preceding  afternoon  she  had  been  clearing  out  the 
drawers.  She  had  completely  finished  arranging  those 
of  the  right  hand  with  the  exception  of  the  very  last 
one.  She  turned  to  this  one  now,  and  opened  it  list- 
lessly. The  task  of  arranging  and  sorting  official 
papers  was  not  congenial  to  her  and  she  looked  for- 
ward with  some  eagerness  to  finishing  the  entire  right- 
hand  column  of  small  drawers  before  retiring  to  bed. 
She  intended  working  upon  the  drawers  of  the  left- 
hand  column  the  following  day.  She  therefore  in- 
serted the  keys  into  the  lock  of  the  last  drawer,  and 
pulled  the  drawer  out  wide. 

Inside,  there  were  three  large  packets  of  letters, 
each  neatly  packed  together  and  tied  with  a  faded 
mauve  ribbon.  The  ribbon  had  been  tied  twice  across 
each  packet  and  fastened  into  a  bow.  Each  bow  was 
securely  fixed  with  a  large  sealing-wax  seal.  She 
took  up  the  largest  packet  which  lay  in  front  of  the 
drawer.  The  top  envelope  was  addressed  to  her  hus- 
band at  the  Perception — in  a  woman's  handwriting. 
She  noticed  that  the  seal  that  secured  the  ribbon  bow 
had  been  sealed  with  Adrien's  own  signet  ring. 
Frangoise  recognised  the  design  of  the  two  interlaced 
letters — ^A.  R.— only  to  well.  It  had  been  a  present 
from  herself  to  her  husband  on  the  first  anniversary 
of  their  wedding. 

There  were  a  goodly  number  of  letters  in  eacK 
packet,  and  perhaps  a  hundred  letters  in  all.     Most 


THE    EDUCATION   OF   JACQUELINE     ii 

of  the  envelopes  were  mauve  in  colour.  Fran- 
goise  looked  again  at  the  handwriting  on  the 
top  envelope,  and  then,  pressing  back  several  envel- 
opes, saw  that  the  handwriting  on  each  envelope  was 
the  same  as  that  on  the  top  one.  She  inspected  the 
other  packets  and  discovered  that  the  letters  they  con- 
tained were  all  addressed  in  the  same  handwriting. 
She  turned  round  the  parcels  in  her  hands  and  was 
just  about  to  break  open  the  seal  of  the  largest  when 
she  noticed  a  small  slip  of  white  paper  that  had  been 
passed  through  the  ribbon  at  the  side  of  the  packet. 
On  this  was  written  in  Adrien's  own  writing,  very 
clearly  and  distinctly,  "  All  the  letters  in  this  drawer 
are  to  be  burned  unopened  at  my  death."  And  it 
was  signed  "Adrien  Reville"  in  the  handwriting 
Frangoise  knew  so  well.  Dropping  them  hurriedly, 
she  thrust  the  packets  back  into  the  drawer.  The 
habit  of  implicit  obedience  to  her  husband's  orders 
was  so  strong  that  it  almost  seemed  to  her  as  if 
Adrien  stood  there  now  behind  her  chair  and  in  his 
quiet,  even  voice — gentle  as  that  of  an  indulgent  par- 
ent speaking  to  a  child — ^had  told  her  to  leave  the 
letters  alone.  •.  „.  .  Then  a  sense  of  the  reality 
of  things  stole  over  her  once  more  and  she  found 
herself  looking  down  upon  the  open  drawer  with 
wide,  startled  eyes. 

She  took  up  the  larger  packet  of  letters  once  more 
almost  mechanically,  and  again  examined  the  hand- 
writing of  the  address.  Yes — it  was  certainly  a 
woman's  writing.  .  .  .  But  the  letters  were  ad- 
dressed to  the   Perception — so  they  were  evidently 


12     THE  EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE 

connected  with  some  question  of  over-taxation.  Pro- 
testations were  often  made  to  the  Percepteur  of 
the  district  by  ratepayers,  and  so  many  of 
these  came  from  women.  For  the  French  female 
householder  is  an  eminently  thrifty  and  economical 
person  who  does  not  accept  overcharges  without  pro- 
testing. 

But — and  the  thought  thrust  itself  into  Fran^oise's 
mind  once  more  with  blinding  swiftness — ^why  were 
there  so  many  letters?  It  seemed  incredible  that  one 
woman  should  have  so  much  to  say  upon  the  sub- 
ject. .  .  .  And  why  had  Adrien  written  the  super- 
scription ordering  their  destruction  without  perusal 
in  case  of  his  own  death?    That  was  strange  indeed! 

One  after  the  other,  she  took  up  the  packets  of 
letters  once  more  and  examined  the  postmarks.  Curi- 
ously enough  most  of  the  letters  had  been  posted  in 
Paris — at  the  post-office  of  the  Rue  Jouffroy.  The  top 
one  of  the  largest  packet — evidently  the  last  received 
of  all — ^bore,  quite  distinctly,  the  date  of  the  day  before 
Adrien's  journey  to  Paris — that  journey  which  had 
ended  so  fatally.  .  e  .  Ah,  yes!  she  was  beginning 
to  remember  now  .  .  .  clearly.  That  day  before 
Adrien  had  left  Rouen,  she  had  gone  to  fetch  her 
husband  at  the  Perception,  and  just  as  they  were  leav- 
ing to  go  home  together,  the  six  o'clock  evening  post 
had  come  in.  Adrien  had  taken  it  from  the  postman's 
hands  himself — and  from  among  several  other  letters 
he  had  drawn  out  one  in  a  pale  mauve  envelope,  and 
had  put  in  into  his  pocket  without  reading  it.  As  he 
often  did  likewise  with  those  letters  received  at  his 


THE   EDUCATION   OF   JACQUELINE      13 

Perception  with  which  he  wished  to  deal  personally, 
Frangoise  had  not  been  greatly  astonished  at  the  time. 
But  she  remembered  the  incident  now  quite  clearly. 
.  .  .  The  top  letter  of  the  packet — was  that  very 
letter!  Yes  .  .  .  then  he  must  have  classed  it,  at 
once,  that  very  evening  with  its  fellows  before  leav- 
ing for  Paris  the  next  morning.  For  after  his  re- 
turn from  that  last  journey  he  had  never  touched  the 
drawers  of  his  bureau  again. 

Suddenly  a  curious,  obscure  and  nameless  dread 
began  to  grow  upon  her,  and  her  heart  began  to  beat 
tumultuously  as  if  it  were  already  conscious  of  some 
sudden  deep  emotion  that  had  not  yet  reached  her 
brain.     .     .     . 

She  felt  strangely  perturbed,  all  her  sensibility 
was  suddenly  aroused.  The  memory  of  the  inci- 
dents of  that  last  walk  back  from  the  Percep- 
tion with  her  husband  had  evoked  so  many  things 
in  her  mind.  .  .  .  She  looked  round  the  room 
now,  and  gazed  again  over  to  the  spot  where  her 
child  was  sleeping  as  if  trying  to  confirm  the  reality 
of  her  own  being  .  .  .  for  so  many  confused 
thoughts  seemed  to  be  whirling  through  her  brain  at 
the  same  moment.  .  .  .  The  regular  breathing 
of  the  child  in  the  warm  atmosphere  of  the  room  af- 
forded her  some  reassuring  calm.  She  turned  again 
to  the  drawer  and  yet  once  more  picked  up  the  let- 
ters. Should  she  break  the  seal  and  open  them?  Yet 
Adrien's  instructions  were  most  explicit — "to  be 
burned  unopened  at  my  death."  .  .  .  Frangoise 
was  imdecided.  She  was  suddenly  fired  with  a  strange 


14      THE  EDUCATION   OF   JACQUELINE 

curiosity — yet  long  years  of  obedient  submission  had 
forged  their  enslaving  chains  around  her. 
She  could  not  have  said  what  she  experienced.  It 
was  not  yet  conscious  fear  or  foreboding  and  yet  it 
was  a  deep  emotion.  She  had  had  such  unquestioning 
belief  in  her  husband  that  she  had  always  implicitly 
obeyed  his  slightest  injunctions.  ...  If  he 
wished  the  letters  to  be  burned,  he  must  have  his  rea- 
sons and  in  the  opinion  of  Frangoise,  Adrien's  reasons 
had  always  been  excellent. 

So  she  put  the  packet  down  once  more  inside  the 
drawer,  and  as  she  did  so,  there  was  suddenly  a  ring 
at  the  door  of  the  house.  Momentarily  Frangoise 
forgot  the  letters  as  she  listened  to  the  tinkling  sound, 
muffled  in  the  distance,  which  she  knew  to  be  the 
postman's  ring.  Clemence — the  maid  who  had  been 
with  her  since  her  marriage  and  who  was  to  remain 
on  with  her  now  as  the  sole  bonne-d-tout  faire  in  her 
new  home — entered  the  room  softly  and  offered  her 
two  letters  on  a  salver.  One  of  them,  marked  Per- 
sonnelle,  had  been  to  the  office  of  the  Perception  and 
re-directed  to  his  predecessor's  private  address  by  the 
new  Percepteur,  who  was  already  settled  in  at  the 
Perception. 

Fran^oise  took  the  two  letters  mechanically  with- 
out glancing  at  them  while  Clemence  went  on  tiptoe 
toward  the  small  cot. 

"Elle  dort?"  she  inquired  in  a  whisper  with  all 
the  ease  and  freedom  of  a  faithful  servant  who  has 
become  part  of  the  family. 

".Yes,"  murmured  Frangoise  gently,  as  she  moved 


THE   EDUCATION  OF   JACQUELINE     15 

aside  to  let  Clemence  get  a  glimpse  of  the  sleeping 
child. 

But  the  sadness  of  Fran^oise's  voice  struck  keenly 
on  the  ear  of  the  faithful  servant. 

"  Voyons,  madame,  voyons.  .  .  .  You  must 
not  let  your  spirits  run  down  like  that.  Isn't  she  a 
comfort  to  you?" — and  she  pointed  to  the  child. 
"  Isn't  she  a  great  comfort — the  darling  child,  the 
blessed  angel ! "  and  Clemence's  eyes  glistened  with 
pride  and  love  as  she  looked  at  the  sleeping  child. 

"  Yes,  Clemence,  she  is  indeed,"  said  Frangoise, 
laying  her  hand  gently  on  the  kind  creature's  arm. 
"But  it  is  a  hard  thing  when  one  is  widowed  and 
alone  at  my  age." 

Clemence  looked  straight  at  her  mistress.  She  did 
not  wish  to  show  her  any  personal  emotion  or  ten- 
derness. She  did  not  mind  showing  her  love  for  the 
child,  but  she  thought  it  wiser  not  to  humour  the 
Patronne. 

"  But  you  are  not  alone  yet,  madame!  You've 
baby — ^bless  her  heart — and  me  and  Monsieur  Pomm. 
Besides,  you  are  young,  and  .  .  ."  But  Clem- 
ence left  the  room,  the  rest  of  her  sentence  unspoken. 
Her  own  eyes  were  bright  with  tears  which  she  stead- 
fastly strove  to  hide  from  her  mistress. 

Frangoise  remained  some  moments  by  the  side  of 
the  cot  contemplating  her  sleeping  child.  And  as  she 
stood  there  smiling  the  adoring  smile  of  the  young 
mother,  she  represented  a  fine  type  of  French  woman- 
hood. Dark,  yet  luminious  eyes,  soft  brown  hair  in 
great  masses  coiled  up  in  the  shape  of  a  huge  eight 


i6      THE   EDUCATION   OF   JACQUELINE 

on  the  top  of  her  head,  as  was  the  fashion  of  her 
day,  delicate,  narrow  waist,  wide  hips,  full-curved 
bosom.  She  was  indeed  good  to  look  at.  She 
resumed  her  seat  at  the  bureau,  placing  the  lamp  at 
her  right  elbow,  and  slowly  and  listlessly  began  to 
open  the  two  letters  brought  by  the  evening's  post. 

The  first  she  opened  was  from  Pomm — Adrien's 
best  and,  indeed,  only  friend.  As  she  conjured  up 
her  vision  of  this  dear  friend  of  her  dead  husband, 
she  sighed  and  tears  arose  in  her  eyes.  What  a  blow 
the  news  of  Adrien's  death  must  have  been  to  the 
old  naval  officer  who  had  been  as  father,  mother  and 
brother  in  one  to  Adrien  Reville  from  his  early  youth 
upwards!  How  well  she  remembered  the  first  time 
she  had  met  him!  It  was  on  the  very  evening  that 
Adrien  had  been  presented  to  her  by  her  parents  as  a 
possible  fiance.  After  she  had  left  the  convent-school, 
her  father  and  mother  who  adored  her — for  she  was 
their  only  child  and  upon  her  they  had  centred  all 
their  hopes — ^had  sought  a  husband  for  her  as  is  the 
duty  of  all  self-respecting  French  parents.  Through 
the  intermediary  of  old  personal  friends — Monsieur 
and  Madame  Dumont — Adrien  Reville  had  been  sug- 
gested as  a  possible  suitor  for  the  hand  of  Frangoise 
de  Belval.  A  small  party  had  been  given  at  the  house 
of  their  friends  in  order  to  bring  about  a  meeting. 
Though  Adrien  Reville's  father  had  been  a  great 
friend  of  theirs  formerly,  the  Dumonts  knew  little 
or  nothing  of  the  young  man  himself.  But  they  had 
ascertained  that  he  was  a  *'  jeune  homme  d'avenir," 
and  though  he  possessed  no  fortune  of  his  own,  they 


THE   EDUCATION   OF   JACQUELINE     17. 

recognised  his  right — in  seeking  a  wife — to  demand 
a  dowry  which  would  enable  him  to  provide  the  nec- 
essary "  cautionnement "  which  went  with  the  nomin- 
ation to  a  post  in  the  Finance  department. 

When  first  the  young  and  upright  Adrien  had  bowed 
before  Mademoiselle  de  Belval,  she  had  been  imme- 
diately struck  by  his  good  looks,  his  easy  gracious 
manner,  his  charming  voice  and  his  long  curling 
moustache.  Ass  for  Adrien's  great  friend — ^Jean 
Pommeret — who  accompanied  him,  he  had  been  sym- 
pathetic to  the  young  girl  immediately.  Instinctively 
and  at  once  she  had  felt  his  goodness  and  his  reliabil- 
ity. Pommeret — or  rather  Pomm,  as  Adrien  when 
still  a  child  had  affectionately  rechristened  him — was 
in  appearance  as  in  character  everything  that  Adrien 
was  not.  He  had  no  good  looks,  no  elegance,  no 
grace;  but  he  was  loyal  and  true  to  the  core  and  he 
looked  upon  Adrien  as  his  son.  He  possessed  no  re- 
lations in  the  world  and  to  him  Adrien  was  every- 
thing and  his  indulgence  for  the  young  man*s  faults 
was  limitless. 

As  she  opened  his  letter  now  Frangoise  trembled 
at  the  thought  of  the  sad  brokenhearted  words  she 
was  about  to  read.  She  knew  that  Pomm's  one 
dream  was  to  retire  from  the  Navy  in  a  few  years* 
time,  then  freed  from  all  duties,  to  settle  down  in  his 
beloved  Paris — and  among  his  beloved  books — his 
unique  passion — in  the  tiny  flat  he  rented  near  the 
Luxembourg  gardens,  and  to  spend  nearly  all  his 
week-ends  with  his  friends  at  Rouen.  Pomm  had 
been  away  in  Indo-China  when  she  had  telegraphed 


i8     THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

him  the  terrible  news  of  Adrien*s  sudden  death  and 
this  was  his  first  letter  after  reception  of  the  news. 

The  plain,  simple  missive  was  characteristic  of  the 
man.  He  was  incapable  of  expressing  the  depth  of 
his  feeling,  although  his  love  for  Adrien  and  for  his 
wife  and  child  was  the  deepest  affection  of  his  kind 
old  heart.  The  news  he  had  just  received  had  quite 
broken  him  down;  yet  he  could  not  express  his  misery 
in  words. 

"  My  dear  Madame  Fran^oise,"  he  wrote,  "  I  can- 
not tell  you  what  a  blow  your  telegram  deals  me.  I 
can  hardly  believe  the  truth  of  the  sad  news !  I  send 
you  the  deepest  expression  of  my  condolence.  But  I 
know  that  you  have  a  brave  heart,  and  that  the 
thought  of  your  young  child  who  needs  your  care  and 
devotion  will  help  you  to  bear  this  great  blow.  You 
have  Faith  too — and  I  am  sure  that  you  will  find 
help  and  consolation  in  God.  I  shall  be  back  in  Eu- 
rope in  six  months.  Rely  on  my  help  if  I  can  be  of 
any  use  to  you,  and  let  me  have  more  details  of  the 
death  of  my  poor  Adrien,  and  hear  of  all  your  new 
plans. 

"  Your  respectful  and  affectionate  friend, 

"Jean  Pommeret." 

Fran^oise  brushed  away  her  tears,  and,  so  as  not 
to  dwell  too  long  upon  her  sad  thoughts,  and  to  brace 
herself  up  against  a  too-depressing  sorrow,  she  turned 
her  attention  to  the  second  letter.  She  held  it  in  her 
hand  and  looked  at  the  lilac  envelope.  At  first  sight — 
her  thoughts  still  intent  upon  Pomm's  missive — she 


THE   EDUCATION   OF   JACQUELINE     19 

gazed  at  it  vacantly,  and  did  not  recognize  the  writ- 
ing. The  new  Percepteur  had  drawn  a  thick  line  in 
blue  pencil  through  the  name  and  address,  and  had 
re-directed  it  in  his  own  heavy  writing  to  Madame 
Reville.  But  through  the  strong  blue  lines  Frangoise 
could  still  read  the  address  of  the  Perception  and  the 
handwriting  seemed  not  unknown  to  her.  It  was  a 
gently  sloped  feminine  hand.  The  envelope  bore  the 
Paris  postmark. 

Several  times  she  turned  it  over,  dwelling  lovingly 
on  the  name  inscribed  on  it,  "  Monsieur  Adrien  Re- 
yille,"  and  reflecting  on  the  irony  of  a  letter  being 
addressed  to  a  dead  man.  A  slightly  trembling  "  Per- 
sonnelle"  was  written  on  the  top  left-hand  corner  of 
the  envelope,  which  explained  its  having  been  for- 
warded to  Monsieur  Reville's  personal  address.  A 
faint  perfume  of  violets  arose  from  it. 

Again  and  again  Frangoise  turned  it  over  and  gazed 
upon  it,  and  then  by  degrees  the  conviction  was 
borne  into  her  mind  that  the  handwriting  was  famil- 
iar. But  still,  for  some  unaccountable  reason,  she  did 
not  recognise  it.  She  broke  open  the  seal.  As  she 
drew  out  the  letter,  again  a  faint  odour  of  violets  came 
forth.  She  straightened  out  the  folded  sheet  and  read 
the  first  line : 

"Mon  bien  aime — my  best  beloved—^ — " 

Immediately  she  stopped  reading  and  picked  up  the 
envelope  again  to  realize  more  completely  whether  or 
not  it  were  really  addressed  to  Adrien.  But  the  writ- 
ing on  the  envelope  was  unmistakable.     It  was  the 


20     THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

same  as  that  of  the  letter,  and  it  distinctly  blazoned 
forth  the  name  "  Monsieur  Adrien  Reville." 

Frangoise,  not  understanding  in  the  least  what  the 
letter  meant,  proceeded  to  read  it : 

"  Mon  bien  aime, — Notwithstanding  the  terrible  risk 
I  run  in  writing  to  you  again,  I  cannot  refrain  from 
doing  so,  for  I  am  so  terribly  anxious  about  you.  What 
can  have  happened?  Since  I  saw  you  off  at  the  St. 
Lazare  Station  last  month  I  have  not  had  a  line  from 
you.  Are  you  ill,  my  beloved  one?  I  am  distraught 
with  fear.  Surely  you  have  not  ceased  to  care  for 
me  suddenly  after  all  our  years  of  faithful  love  and 
devotion? — especially  so  soon  after  the  two  days  we 
spent  together  last  month  in  such  delirious  delight? 
.  when  the  dear  early  days  of  our  passion 
seemed  renewed  once  more — re-created?  No,  you 
cannot  have  ceased  to  love  me,  for  you  cannot  for- 
get our  past  and  all  that  I  have  been  to  you.  Not- 
withstanding your  marriage  and  my  own  fetters  I 
feel  that  I  must  go  to  you,  if  you  do  not  answer  my 
repeated  appeals.  But  I  dare  not; though  if  I  knew  that 
you  were  ill  and  in  danger,  then  I  would  fling  all  our 
patient  years  of  prudence  to  the  winds — ^and  go  to 
you,  my  Beloved! 

"  I  am  wondering  whether  you  have  written,  and  if 
the  letters  have  been  intercepted?  Perhaps  she — the 
woman  who,  alas !  has  rights  over  you — ^has  begun  to 
suspect  something — as  my  husband  began  to  suspect 
until  we  quieted  his  fears  with  the  announcement  of 
your  marriage  five  years  ago.     Beloved — Beloved — 


THE   EDUCATION   OF   JACQUELINE     21 

what  can  I  do?  I  am  half  mad  with  fear  and  anx- 
iety. And  yet,  have  you  not  been  more  than  good  to 
her?  Have  you  not  more  than  repaid  her  for  the 
service  she  did  you  when  she  gave  you  her  dowry  for 
your  cautionnementf  Alas!  I  have  done  all  in  my 
power  to  quell  jealousy  of  her  in  my  tortured  heart. 
O,  dearest,  there  are  moments  when  I  wonder  whether 
you  do  not  love  her  now — ^yes,  love  her — ^the  woman 
to  whom  I  gave  you,  and  who  is  now  the  mother  of 
your  child.     . 

"  Darling,  darling,  answer  me.  Forgive  me  the  folly 
of  writing  thus.  My  mind  is  distraught.  I  am 
broken-hearted !  I  am  dying  for  news  of  you.  If  you 
are  ill,  find  some  means  of  letting  me  know.  For 
pity's  sake — for  our  love's  sake — put  me  out  of  this 
overwhelming — this  insupportable — suspense. 
"  Yours  ever  and  ever 

"C^CILE." 

FranQoise  read  through  this  letter  to  the  end  as  if 
she  read  some  book  or  play.  It  seemed  in  no  way 
to  concern  her.  At  first  she  was  as  if  petrified.  All 
thought,  all  reflection,  all  power  of  reasoning,  seemed 
crushed  out  of  her.  Then  slowly  she  began  to  realize 
what  this  revelation  meant  to  her,  and  in  her  dismay 
and  surprise  it  seemed — before  she  could  coherently 
grasp  the  entire  meaning  of  it — that  her  own  inner 
and  more  vital  self  were  withering  away.  It  was 
as  if  life  itself  were  leaving  her.     .     .     . 

But  she  made  an  effort  to  overcome  a  nauseating 
feeling  of  horror  and  pull  herself  together.     Un- 


22     THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

consciously  her  swooning  eyes  gazed  towards  the 
darkest  corner  of  the  room  where  it  had  seemed  a 
few  moments  ago  she  saw  the  spectre  of  her  husband 
Adrien — the  well-beloved.  .  .  .  And  this  time, 
as  she  looked,  she  seemed  to  see  him  again.  But  in 
the  dark  shadows,  as  she  gazed  at  him,  his  features 
seemed  distorted  into  a  ghastly  grin.     . 

A'nd  slowly,  as  Frangoise  looked  upon  that  hideous 
image,  her  gaze  became  dispassionate  and  she  began 
slowly — very,  very  slowly — to  understand  that  her 
conception  of  Adrien  had  never  been  real,  and  that 
even  the  ghost  of  that  false  conception  was  now 
crumbling  to  the  dust.  Her  entire  understanding  of 
his  character  had  been  false  from  the  first.  He  was 
not  the  superior,  almost  impeccable,  being  she  had 
believed  him  to  be,  but  an  entirely  different  person 
whom  she  had  never  known  at  all — whose  real  life 
had  indeed  been  unsuspected  by  her  till  now. 

A  terrible  fear  assailed  her  heart,  and  her  blood 
seemed  frozen  in  her  veins — for  love  dies  hard,  and 
what  dies  harder  still  is  our  own  erring  human  con- 
ception of  life  and  things.  But  she  was  forced  to 
admit  to  herself,  nevertheless,  that  the  man  she  had 
loved  with  all  the  intensity  of  a  first  young  passion — 
had  never  really  been  hers!  He  had  given  what 
he  possessed  of  heart  and  soul  to  the  woman  who  had 
written  this  letter.  .  .  .  His  attitude  to  her — 
his  wife — had  been  but  a  part  he  had  played — with  a 
special  end  in  view,  clearly  stated — the  obtaining  of 
the  necessary  cautionnement  for  his  post  and  the  set- 
tling of  his  future  on  the  firm  basis  of  a  secure  per- 


THE    EDUCATION   OF   JACQUELINE     23 

sonal  income.  Incidentally,  he  had  gained  a  wife,  but, 
though  he  had  been  kind  to  her,  he  had  never  really 
loved  her.  She  had  been  to  him  but  as  an  adjunct  to 
his  post.  His  actions  had  always  been  self-cen- 
tred. .  .  .  She  remembered  now  numberless  small 
details  of  their  every-day  life.  He  had  never 
thought  of  anything  but  his  own  material  interests, 
and  she,  Frangoise,  had  only  been  taken  into  consid- 
eration by  him  insomuch  as  she  served  these  inter- 
ests. 

In  that  hour  of  her  realization  of  the  true  Adrien, 
Frangoise  could  feel  nothing  but  a  baffled  feeling  of 
impotence;  and  the  passion  as  well  as  the  affectionate 
tenderness  she  had  cherished  for  her  husband,  to- 
gether with  all  her  former  erroneous  conception  of 
his  character,  fell  from  her  as  a  heavy  cloak  falls 
from  the  shoulders  of  its  wearer.  But  it  left  her 
with  her  heart  emptied  of  all  tender  feeling,  of  all 
sweetness.  She  had  been  deceived — tricked — cruelly 
misled.  In  a  sickening  revulsion  of  feeling,  life  ap- 
peared to  her  now  only  as  a  callous  farce  not  worth 
the  living.  .  .  .  And  immediately  beginning  to 
generalize  without  measure  or  discernment,  she  asked 
herself,  if  all  men  were  false,  and  measured  their  af- 
fections by  the  measure  of  mere  material  interests — 
then  what  was  marriage — what  was  love? 

As  if  in  response  to  her  bitter  question,  she  sud- 
denly seemed  to  hear  a  whisper  in  her  brain  that 
was  its  answer.  "Maternity,"  it  breathed.  And 
Frangoise  suddenly  rose  with  a  spring  and  hastened 
across  the  room  towards  her  child's  cot.     Jacqueline 


24     THE  EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE 

— ^her  child!  .  .  ,  But  his  child  too — the  child 
of  the  liar,  of  the  faithless  husband.  .  .  .  And 
gazing  at  her  own  sleeping  babe  she  saw  the  mark  of 
him  upon  her;  his  very  features  were  hers!  In  her 
blind  fury,  she  leaned  forward  almost  as  if  to  strike, 
upon  the  face  of  the  sleeping  child,  the  likeness  of  its 
father.  .  .  .  But  the  babe  smiled  sweetly  in  her 
sleep,  and  Frangoise,  all  her  passion  suddenly  spent, 
gazed  upon  her,  with  love  and  smiled  back  in  answer. 
Ah  yes!  Jacqueline  was  hers — and  hers  alone 
now.  No  one  should  tear  her  from  her  hungry  arms. 
She  at  least  was  real  and  true!  And  notwith- 
standing her  likeness  to  her  father,  she  was  Fran- 
goise's  alone.  No  one  could  ever  take  her  child 
from  her  to  make  her  unreal  whom  she  had  brought 
into  the  world,  bone  of  her  bone,  flesh  of  her  flesh, 
in  pain  and  travail.  So  life  yet  held  hope  for  her, 
since  it  held  Jacqueline.  And  Frangoise,  suddenly 
falling  down  by  the  side  of  the  cot  that  held  the  sleep- 
ing child,  burst  into  tears  and  wept — ^wept — wept. 

About  an  hour  later  she  rose  from  her  knees  that 
were  stiff  and  bent  beneath  the  burden  of  her  own 
weight.  There  was  more  peace  in  her  heart  now — 
though  she  was  still  conscious  that  something  dread- 
ful had  happened  that  had  altered  the  whole  course 
of  her  life,  and  had  robbed  her  of  almost  all  that  had 
made  life  possible.  She  moved  again  across  the  room 
where  the  lamp  shed  its  rosy  glow  on  the  table,  and 
mechanically  she  turned  up  the  wick,  which  had  burnt 
low.     Her  listless  glance  fell  again,  not  on  the  letter 


THE    EDUCATION   OF   JACQUELINE     25 

she  had  just  read,  but  upon  its  envelope. 
"Monsieur  Adrien  Reville"     ,      .      .   she  read  the 
name  as  if  it  were  that  of  a  stranger. 

Suddenly,  with  incontrovertible  clearness,  a  new 
conviction  thrust  itself  into  her  mind.  The  writing  on 
the  envelope  before  her — it  was  the  same  as  that  upon 
the  packets  of  letters  she  had  found  in  the  drawer 
.  !  How  extraordinary  it  now  seemed  to  her 
that  she  should  not  have  noticed  it  before! 

She  sank  down  into  her  chair,  and,  stooping,  drew 
forth  the  three  packets  of  letters  from  their  resting- 
place.  Upon  the  table,  right  beneath  the  clear  light 
of  the  lamp  again  she  compared  the  writing  of  the 
top  envelope  with  that  of  the  newly-received  letter. 
There  could  be  no  possible  doubt.  The  writer  of  the 
packets  of  letters  which  Adrien  had  decreed  should 
be  burnt  at  his  death  was  the  same  "Cecile"  who 
had  signed  the  letter  she  had  just  read. 

She  tore  away  the  slip  of  white  paper  that  held  her 
husband's  last  order  to  her.  .  .  .  For  the  first 
time  she  disobeyed  him!  She  looked  again  at 
Adrien's  writing,  "To  be  burnt  unopened  at  my 
death."  .  .  .  She  smiled,  somewhat  ironically, 
certainly  cruelly.  Her  determination  was  quickly 
taken.  She  would  show  her  contempt  for  Adrien's 
last  mute  message  to  her  and  read  every  single  one  of 
the  letters  now,  since  his  well-guarded  secret  was 
hers.  She  broke  the  seal  and  tore  away  the  binding 
ribbon.  The  whole  packet  of  letters  fell  in  a  loose  un- 
bound sheaf  upon  the  table. 

Settling  herself  in  her  chair,  she  began  to  read. 


26     THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

The  very  first  letters  were  dated  ten  years  back. 
The  last  had  been  written  on  the  day  which  had 
preceded  his  departure  for  the  last  fateful  journey  to 
Paris.  He  had  kept  it  in  his  pocket  while  he  walked 
back  from  the  Perception  to  the  house  with  his  wife. 
Frangoise  remembered  their  conversation  during  that 
walk  together.  They  had  been  planning  together  a 
holiday  at  the  sea,  which  would  be  beneficial  to  their 
little  Jacqueline,  Once  home  and  in  the  privacy  of 
his  study,  Adrien  had  probably  torn  it  open  and  read 
it,  and  later  on  surreptitiously  gone  to  his  room  and 
locked  it  away  with  the  others  while  his  wife  was 
putting  Jacqueline  to  bed.  And,  when  he  had  left 
for  Paris  early  the  next  morning  in  answer  to  Cecile's 
unexpected  summons,  announcing  that  her  husband 
had  been  called  into  the  provinces  on  urgent  business 
and  that  she  would  have  two  whole  days'  complete 
freedom,  he  had  kissed  his  wife  tenderly — on  the 
lips — ^with  the  tender,  loving  kiss  of  devoted  lovers 
who  part  for  a  short  time.  Pah!  Frangoise  wiped 
her  chill  mouth  now  with  her  handkerchief  as  if  to 
obliterate  that  Judas  kiss.  .  .  .  And  probably 
his  "  Cecile  "  had  met  him  at  the  station  on  his  ar- 
rival in  Paris,  and  to  her,  too,  he  had  given  the  long, 
deep  kiss  of  lovers  who  after  being  parted  are  at  last 
reunited.  .  .  .  Frangoise  trembled  with  disgust 
and  horror,  and  settled  herself  again  to  read  the 
letters  from  beginning  to  end  in  order  and  sequence 
from  the  first  one  of  ten  years  ago,  till  the  last  of 
to-night's  post.  She  was  determined  to  know  the 
whole  wretched  story. 


THE   EDUCATION   OF   JACQUELINE     27 

But  as  she  read,  and  the  minutes  of  the  night  grew 
into  hours,  a  curious  change  of  feeling  and  of  impres- 
sion grew  slowly  upon  her.  .  .  .  Though  her 
disgust  with  Adrien  almost  seemed  to  increase  with 
every  moment,  her  first  instinctive  feeling  of  loathing 
against  the  woman  who  had  written  these  letters  be- 
gan to  decrease  and  give  way  to  another  feeling 
which,  if  it  held  no  sympathy,  was  yet  of  commisera- 
tion and  pity.  Franqoise  paused  for  a  moment  and 
reflected.  ...  It  was  strange  that  she  should 
feel  thus,  but  she  was  forced  to  admit  to  herself  that 
her  feelings  were  roused  by  the  woman  who  had 
written  the  letters  she  held.  .  .  .  What  treas- 
ures of  deep  devoted  love,  what  abnegation  of  self 
in  the  service  of  the  beloved  one,  Frangoise  read  here! 
What  passion,  too,  was  expressed.  How  pale,  col- 
ourless, almost  absurd,  did  Frangoise's  own  girlish 
love  for  her  husband  seem  beside  this  glowing  emo- 
tion— how  fade,  how  insipid !  Yes,  indeed,  the  whole 
real  life  of  Adrien  as  she  had  never  known  it  was 
now  revealed  to  her!  Through  all  the  five  years  of  her 
marriage  she  had  been  but  a  young  and  inexperienced 
child,  to  whom  Adrien  had  appeared  as  a  god  of  wis- 
dom. But  to  this  woman,  older  and  wiser  in  the 
ways  of  the  world  than  he  was,  he  had  seemed  only 
as  a  very  young  and  inexperienced  man,  who,  having 
no  family  ties  or  affections,  was  lonely  and  needed  her 
care  and  affection.  She  had  directed,  advised,  educated 
him,  helped  him  to  succeed.  Yes ;  truly  this  Cecile  had 
loved  him  almost  as  a  mother!  What  tenderness, 
what  adoration  there  was  in  her  heart  for  this  young, 


28     THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

seductive,  and  ambitious  man!  He  had  evideihtly 
revealed  to  her  his  loathing  for  poverty  and  for  medi- 
ocrity, and  finally,  after  many  struggles  with  her- 
self and  her  own  love,  it  had  been  she,  herself,  who 
had  suggested  obtaining  for  him  a  provincial  post  in 
the  Finances  which  should  satisfy  his  material  am- 
bitions though  it  took  him  away  from  herself  and 
gave  him  to  another.  ...  In  her  letters  she  al- 
luded constantly  to  her  husband  and  spoke  not  only 
of  his  friendship  for  the  young  man  but  of  his  will- 
ingness to  help  Adrien  with  his  influence.  Then 
there  were  other  letters  in  which  the  writer  showed 
some  fear  of  discovery  on  the  part  of  her  too-con- 
fiding husband.  .  ,  .  And  gradually  the  advis- 
ability of  a  marriage  de  raison  for  Adrien  had  been 
deliberately  broached  between  the  lovers  as  the  only 
possible  means  of  appeasing  her  husband's  now  fully 
aroused  suspicions  and  at  the  same  time  of  putting 
Adrien  into  the  position  he  desired.  .  .  .  There 
were  letters  at  that  epoch  which  betrayed  deep  wounds 
in  the  woman's  heart,  and  many  small  allusions  which 
suggested  her  great  unexpressed  hope — ^that  Adrien 
would  refuse  not  only  her  husband's  help  but  also  her 
own  sacrifice.  .  .  .  But  he  had  not  refused. 
Later  letters  from  him  had  presumably  acquainted 
Madame  Ducastel  with  the  negotiations  concerning 
his  first  interview  with  Frangoise  herself,  for  he  had 
evidently  alluded  to  his  fiancee  as  an  "  amiable  petite 
sotte."  And  it  was  Cecile — generous-hearted  Cecile 
— ^who  pointed  out  to  him  all  that  he  would  owe  to  the 


THE    EDUCATION   OF    TACQUELINE     29 

"  petite  sotte  "  and  begged  him  to  be  kind  and  con- 
siderate to  the  poor  child.     . 

As  she  read,  Frangoise  felt  that  by  degrees  all  the 
old  shackles  of  her  education  were  loosening  around 
her  heart  and  falling  away.  She  was  surprised  to 
find  herself  feeling  sentiments  which  had  never  been 
dictated  to  her  by  others — sentiments,  in  fact,  which 
others  would  certainly  have  condemned  in  her.  For 
now  she  was  beginning  to  feel  sympathy  for  this 
Cecile — for  her  husband's  mistress,  for  an  erring 
wife — ^she,  the  impeccable,  untried  Frangoise,  whom 
neither  sorrow  nor  life  yet  had  touched!  The  pas- 
sionate devotion,  the  selflessness  which  breathed  in 
her  letters  revealed  Cecile  to  her  rival  as  a  tender, 
loving,  and  touchingly  sincere  creature. 
The  writer  spoke  often  of  the  misunderstanding  be- 
tween herself  and  her  husband.  He  had  been  a  bad 
husband — faithless  from  the  first — neglecting  her 
and  leaving  her  in  loneliness.  .  .  .  And  she 
had  had  no  child,  though  her  heart  yearned  with 
warm  maternal  love.  ...  So  all  her  devo- 
tion, tenderness  and  love  she  had  given  to  the  young, 
lonely  and  beautiful  boy  that  Adrien  once  had  been. 

And  Frangoise  understood  her  gift  of  herself, 
and,  understanding,  could  not  accuse.  She  could 
not  even  find  it  in  her  heart  to  condemn  when  she 
learnt  that  even  after  Adrien's  marriage — and  even 
after  her  own  renouncement — Cecile  had  not  had  the 
courage  to  resist  her  lover's  supplications  and  had 
yielded  again. 


30     THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

Frangoise  was  not  even  astonished  to  find  herself 
thus  sympathizing  with  the  woman  who  had  so  long 
held  her  own  husband's  heart.  For  the  first  time  in 
her  young,  guarded  and  conventional  life,  Frangoise 
had  begun  to  think  and  feel  for  herself  and  found 
that  she  had  acquired  a  broader,  more  generous  and 
more  human  outlook. 

By  the  time  she  had  read  through  a  few  of  the 
letters,  Frangoise  had  realised  who  the  "Cecile"  of 
the  letters  must  be.  One  or  two  had  been  written 
upon  notepaper  with  an  address  engraved  on  the  top 
of  the  front  page,  and  the  address — 220  Place  Males- 
herbes — was  not  unknown  to  her.  It  was  the  Paris 
address  of  the  rich  and  influential  Deputy,  Sebastian 
Ducastel. 

Frangoise  therefore  understood  that  the  writer  of 
the  letters  was  Cecile  Ducastel,  the  Deputy's  wife. 


CHAPTER   II 

The  influence  of  the  shock  produced  on  Frangoise 
Reville's  mind  by  the  revelations  contained  in  Ma- 
dame Ducastel's  letters  would  have  resulted  in  a  serious 
perturbation  of  the  brain  had  she  not  been  particu- 
larly strong  and  healthy,  with  nerves  in  a  condition 
which  enabled  her  to  resist  her  sorrow  with  firmness. 

She  lay  awake  all  through  the  long  hours  of  the 
night,  trying  to  realize  in  what  manner  her  discovery 
was  going  to  ajfifect  her  future  actions.  She  knew  it 
to  be  the  downfall  of  all  the  joy  and  hope  she  had 
built  up  for  her  own  store  in  life.  Her  whole  edu- 
cation had  prepared  her  to  be  a  victim.  And  now 
she  knew  that  she  had  not  only  been  a  victim  but  had 
also  been  a  dupe,  and  that  if  in  herself  she  could  find 
the  strength  to  resist  the  blow,  at  least  she  would 
never  be  able  to  re-educate  herself. 

Ah,  how  well  Adrien  had  befooled  her  and  made 
her  his  willing  tool  to  gain  his  own  ends!  For  how 
well  he  had  counterfeited  love!  .  .  .  How  truly 
sincere  he  had  seemed  at  times!  How  tender!  How 
careful  he  had  been  of  her  before  Jacqueline's  birth, 
and  how  loving,  how  more  devoted  than  ever,  he 
had  been  afterwards! 

Now  that  her  brain  was  clear,  now  that  for  the 
first  time  in  her  life,  emerging  from  the  guidance 
of  other  minds,  she  was  awakened  to  the  reality  of 

31 


32     THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

conscious  existence  herself,  she  sought  within  her 
brain  to  reconstitute  Adrien's  moral  self  as  he  had 
revealed  himself  to  her  through  the  five  years  of  her 
married  life.  His  attitude  towards  her  had  always 
seemed  perfect.  But  what  means  had  she  possessed 
of  judging  what  was  perfect  and  what  was  not  so  in 
a  man's  conduct  towards  his  wife?  Her  parents  had 
prepared  her  only  for  one  thing,  subservience  to  her 
husband.  He  was  not  only  to  be  the  "  Prince  Charm- 
ing" but  also  the  teacher,  the  initiator,  who  would 
reveal  life  to  her.  Had  Adrien  then  failed  in  this? 
No,  not  entirely.  In  the  first  hours  of  her  married 
life  he  had  been  tender,  though  passionate,  but  not 
so  vehement  as  to  appear  brutal  to  the  young  and  in- 
nocent girl  that  Frangoise  was  at  the  time  of  her 
marriage.  The  heart  of  the  bewildered  young  bride 
had  soon  been  won  by  the  husband,  and  soon  she  had 
fallen  deeply  in  love  with  him. 

The  honeymoon  had  been  spent  in  Italy,  where 
for  four  weeks  they  wandered  from  town  to 
town,  and  here  Frangoise  was  much  less  taken 
up  with  the  art  treasures  of  the  museums  than 
with  her  husband.  He  was  pre-eminently  the 
lover — ^the  subtle,  tender  lover — ^which  a  French- 
man can  be  at  will  when  a  charming  and  very 
young  girl  is  given  to  him  for  a  wife.  But  in  these 
early  days  Frangoise  was  unable  to  respond  to  his 
caresses  as  he  desired.  His  somewhat  too  passionate 
entreaties  at  first  frightened  her.  She  was  too  young, 
too  inexperienced  to  realize  that  Adrien  was  in  love 
merely  with  love  and  not  with  herself.    But  as  his 


THE   EDUCATION   OF   JACQUELINE     33 

taste  for  her  had  slowly  exhausted  itself,  her  own 
tenderness  for  her  husband  had  increased,  and  at 
times  her  more  conscious  and  growing  passion  had 
warmed  Adrien  to  a  semblance  of  love,  which  she  in 
her  ignorance  believed  to  be  the  true  responding  light 
to  her  own  flame. 

Alfter  these  first  few  weeks  of  marital  happiness, 
the  young  man's  ardour  had  somewhat  subsided. 
FrauQoise,  taking  up  her  new  role  as  a  young  matron, 
most  enthusiastically  had  allowed  her  mind  to  be 
much  occupied  by  thoughts  of  arranging  the  home  and 
attending  to  her  new  duties.  She  had  scarcely  noticed 
the  lessening  tenderness  of  her  husband,  for  he  had 
ever  showed  himself  solicitous  of  her  health  and  com- 
fort. 

Anxious  to  teach  her  many  things  concerning  her 
social  and  home  duties,  he  appeared  more  in  the 
light  of  a  friendly  guide  than  an  amorous  husband. 
He  suggested  to  her  how  she  must  dress  to  please 
him,  and  how  to  receive  his  friends  in  his  own  house. 
He  told  her  what  visits  she  must  make  to  the  ladies 
of  the  town — ^wives  of  his  various  colleagues  in  the 
State  Administrations — explaining  to  her  how  use- 
fully a  wife  could  serve  her  husband's  ambitions  by 
the  graciousness  of  her  social  manners.  He  guided 
her  taste  in  all  things,  and  she  loved  him  as  a  teacher 
as  well  as  a  husband.  When  at  times  the  ardour  of 
their  first  married  weeks  seemed  to  return  to  him,  she 
found  in  him  again  the  lover,  and  was  perfectly  happy 
and  content. 

During  their  life  together  never  for  a  moment  had 


34     THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

Frangoise  doubted  her  husband's  love  for  her,  and 
even  his  sincere  affection  for  their  little  daughter 
seemed  to  have  increased  his  feeling  of  tender  solici- 
tude for  his  wife.  But  now  she  knew  that  she  had 
been  living  in  a  fool's  paradise  all  the  years  of  her  mar- 
riage, and  that  her  temple  of  love  was  crumbled  in 
the  dust! 

From  the  effects  of  the  stunning  blow  of  sudden 
knowledge  Frangoise's  mind  emerged  from  its  chrys- 
alid  state  of  artificial  modesty,  of  artificial  virtue, 
and  of  artificial  ideals  which  had  been  the  result  of 
her  conventional  training.  She  found  her  own  soul 
for  the  first  time,  and  stood  revealed  to  herself.  She 
felt  that  henceforth  she  should  resolve  the  problems 
of  life  with  her  own  judgment,  and  no  longer  with 
the  atrophied  judgment  of  others,  given  to  her  brain 
second  hand  with  its  true  essence  altered.  She  realized 
that  she  must  now  do  away  entirely  with  the  false 
education  of  life  which  her  parents,  in  the  fond  hope 
of  defending  her  against  evil,  had  built  up  for  her. 
Her  natural  intelligence  now  asserted  itself  com- 
pletely, bursting  through  the  new-bom  outward  husk 
of  convention. 

At  first  she  was  astonished  to  find  that  she  was 
thinking  her  own  individual  thoughts,  and  was  almost 
bewildered  at  her  own  audacity.  But  once  the  move- 
ment was  set  in  action,  she  knew  that  she  was  going 
to  find  in  herself  a  new  individuality — ^her  real  self — 
which  her  convent  education,  her  parents,  her  sur- 
roundings, and  finally  her  husband,  had  all  helped  to 
suppress.    She  learned  in  a  flash  that  she  did  possess 


THE   EDUCATION  OE  JACQUELINE     z$ 

an  individuality  of  her  very  own — ^though  she  had 
never  suspected  its  existence  until  now.  Making  this 
discovery  almost  instantaneously,  fresh  thoughts  be- 
gan at  once  to  force  themselves  into  her  brain,  crush- 
ing out  all  her  old  effete  convictions. 

After  the  terrible  hours  of  that  first  night  of  knowl- 
edge she  was  never  the  same  creature  again.  What 
proved  her  complete  transformation  to  herself  was 
the  fact  that  she  found  herself  instinctively  making 
a  supreme  effort  in  the  midst  of  her  suffering  and 
desolation  to  examine  the  situation  dispassionately 
without  personal  prejudice,  even  without  resentment, 
setting  aside  her  own  feelings  and  trying  to  judge 
with  calm  reason  and  forbearance.  She  thrust  aside 
personal  jealousy  with  valiant  endeavour  to  try  to 
understand  the  soul,  the  promptings,  and  the  conse- 
quent misery  of  such  a  woman  as  Cecile  Ducastel. 

From  Madame  Ducastel's  letters,  Frangoise  had 
gathered  all  that  Adrien  had  represented  in  this  un- 
happy woman's  life.  The  tone  of  sincerity  in  these 
long  missives  had  convinced  her.  She  had  veered 
round  in  her  appreciation  of  Cecile  by  putting  her- 
self in  imagination  in  Cecile's  place,  and  judging  her 
as  she  would  have  wished  to  be  judged  herself — that 
is  to  say,  not  only  without  harshness,  but  with  some 
commiseration.  Yes,  Cecile,  wrong  though  she  was, 
had  sincerely  loved  Adrien — loved  him,  not  for  her- 
self, but  for  himself — loved  him,  not  for  her  good, 
her  own  happiness,  but  for  his.  That  was  the 
truth  that  touched  Frangoise,  because  by  comparison 
it  taught  her  how  thoughtless,  how  childish,  and  how 


36      THE  EDUCATION   OF   JACQUELINE 

egotistical  her  own  love  for  Adrien  had  been,  and 
therefore  how  much  weaker,  more  trivial  a  thing. 

Cecile  had  done  much  for  Adrien.  She  had  given 
him  herself,  but  she  had  also  been  his  adviser,  his 
comrade,  his  true  friend.  By  means  of  her  womanly 
knowledge  and  wider  experience,  she  had  helped  him 
to  build  up  his  social  and  economic  position.  And 
then  later  she  had  sacrificed  herself,  nobly,  willingly, 
to  his  material  interests.  It  was  not  merely  to 
dupe  her  husband  that  she  had  manoeuvred  and 
planned  to  obtain  for  him  the  post  that  he  occupied. 
That  was  quite  clear  to  understand  in  all  her  letters. 
It  was  really  because  she  knew  it  was  for  Adrien's 
benefit.  Frangoise  realized  all  these  things  now  and 
her  freed  intelligence  confirmed  her  instinctive  con- 
victions. 

When  Adrien  had  married,  Cecile  had  really 
renounced  him.  That  had  been  quite  evident.  Her 
letter  of  farewell  had  been  heartbreaking,  and  its 
ring  of  sincerity  unmistakeably  true.  If  she  had 
found  no  strength  left  in  her  when  Adrien  had  im- 
plored her  to  give  herself  back  after  his  first  visit  to 
Paris  when  he  had  settled  down  in  Rouen,  Cecile's 
new  guilt  had  filled  her  with  remorse,  and  all  through 
the  letters  which  followed  one  another  at  short  in- 
tervals during  this  period  Frangoise  had  been  able 
to  trace  the  various  phases  of  suffering  through 
which  the  miserable  woman  had  passed.  Alterna- 
tives of  frenzied  passion,  of  frozen  despair,  of  bitter, 
cruel  remorse  and  regret,  succeeded  one  ano'ther. 
And  yet  through  all  this  there  was  the  often-ex- 


THE   EDUCATION   OF   JACQUELINE     37 

pressed  wish  that  Adrien  should  act  fairly,  decently, 
honourably,  to  his  young  wife.  Frangoise  understood 
that  at  times  Adrien  must  have  rebelled  against  his 
legal  chains  and  with  the  lack  of  reticence  and  re- 
serve which  characterised  him  in  his  most  intimate 
relations,  confided  his  revolt  to  Cecile.  For  her 
letters  were  full  of  exhortations  to  patience,  to  kind- 
ness, to  consideration  for  the  mother  of  his  child. 
And  Frangoise  dimly  realized  now  that  much  of 
Adrien's  forbearance  with  what  must  have  often 
seemed  to  him  her  own  childish  petulant  ignorance 
had  been  the  result  of  Cecile's  gentle  influence  over 
him.  Truly  a  disenchanting  discovery  for  any  young 
wife  to  make,  and  sufficient  in  itself  to  crush  out  any 
lingering  feeling  of  tenderness  for  a  husband's 
memory ! 

And  what  excuse  could  be  conscientiously  found 
for  Adrien?  None.  Though  Frangoise  herself,  had 
been  carefully  prepared  by  her  mother  for  her  sub- 
servient role  as  a  wife,  she  had  joyfully  accepted  the 
suitor  her  parents  offered  her,  and  had  hoped  that 
marriage  would  bring,  not  only  love  and  passion,  but 
also  the  realisation  of  her  dreams.  Now  she  knew 
that  the  very  foundation  of  her  union  with  Adrien 
Reville  had  been  laid  upon  a  misunderstanding.  But 
if,  in  her  girlish  ignorance  of  life,  she  had  expected 
love  and  passion  in  marriage,  what  Adrien  had  sought 
was  the  forgetting  of  passion,  and  the  calm  affection 
one  has  for  a  comrade.  She  had  entered  upon  the 
contract  with  the  hope  of  beginning  her  experience 
and  he  with  the  intention  of  closing  his.    Adrien  rea- 


38     THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

soned,  like  most  young  men  of  his  time,  and,  as  Fran- 
Qoise  now  realized,  the  man  of  Latin  races  does  not 
marry  for  love,  but  to  put  an  end  to  what  has  often 
been  a  passionate  youth,  to  settle  down  to  make  a 
home  and  found  a  family.  Aind  when  he  does  this, 
he  preferably  seeks  appointment  to  some  secure  and 
reliable  post  in  the  State  system — for  these  posts  con- 
fer upon  their  holders  a  social  standing  and  a  dignity 
to  which  all  Frenchmen  alike  aspire,  once  they  have 
sown  their  wild  oats.  But  Government  posts  having 
comparatively  small  salaries  attached  to  them,  can- 
didates must  seek  a  wife  whose  dowry  represents  not 
only  her  own  share  in  the  community,  but  more  also, 
so  as  to  supplement  the  salary  of  her  husband  and 
pay  for  the  luxuries  which  the  husband's  position  de- 
mands. 

Frangoise  knew  all  these  things.  She  knew  that 
most  legal  unions  in  her  country  were  social  arrange- 
ments by  means  of  which  the  importance  of  the  hus- 
band's position  justified  the  demanding  of  a  certain 
figure  for  his  wife's  dowry. 

She  had  heard  such  alliances  discussed  often  among 
her  friends  and  acquaintances  during  her  married 
life.  But  because  she  had  not  realized  it  at  the  time, 
there  was  no  reason  why  Adrien's  own  marriage 
should  have  been  differently  arranged.  Once 
her  education  finished,  her  parents  had  sought  and 
found  her  a  husband  exactly  on  the  same  principle 
as  other  parents.  They  had  relied  upon  the  informa- 
tion gathered  from  intermediates,  for  they  knew 
nothing  more  about  Adrien  than  what  the  Dumonts 


THE   EDUCATION  OE  JACQUELINE     39 

had  told  them.  But  tfiey  had  faitH  in  the  judgment  of 
their  old  friends,  who  had  known  Adrien's  father  long 
before  the  birth  of  Adrien  himself.  Frangoise  knew 
that  as  a  matter  of  course  her  parents  had  presented 
Adrien  Reville  as  a  possible  suitor  only  after  they  had 
entirely  satisfied  themselves  as  to  his  honourableness 
and  social  position.  Of  his  character,  his  tempera- 
ment, his  tastes  and  inclinations,  they  of  course  knew 
nothing,  nor  could  they  learn  anything  from  the  Du- 
monts,  who  had  only  seen  Adrien  himself  twice. 

But  in  their  opinion  it  would  be  their  daughter*s 
3uty  to  discover  these  tendencies  after  she  had  mar- 
ried him,  and  to  adapt  herself  to  them.  That  was  the 
reason  of  her  education  in  entire  passivity,  for  Fran- 
noise's  own  education,  like  that  of  all  her  young 
companions,  had  been  but  a  long  preparation  for  mar- 
riage and  for  a  husband's  guidance.  Her  parents  had 
told  her  that  she  must  study  his  tastes  exclusively, 
and  obey  him  in  all  things.  She  had  done  so,  and  he 
had  exercised  the  same  moral  tutelage  over  her  heart 
and  brain  that  her  parents  had  exercised  since  her 
babyhood.  And  until  now  she  had  found  no  fault  in 
him,  had  discovered  no  flaw  in  his  character.  He 
was  to  her  the  master  who  must  be  loved  and  obeyed. 

But  with  her  new  soul  a  stern  judgment  had  arisen 
strong  within  her.  And  this  so-well  hidden  liaison 
proved  not  only  his  deep  hypocritical  treachery  to  her- 
self but  also  to  Cecile.  For  there  had  been  hours  in 
her  married  life  that  Frangoise  now  remembered  in 
which  Adrien's  passion  for  herself  had  been  indubi- 
table.    Certain  abandons  cannot  be  feigned,  and  even 


40     THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

the  most  innocent  woman  recognises  true  passion  in 
its  hour.  His  twofold  insincerity  now  revealed  him 
completely  to  his  wife — ^and  she  was  able  to  judge  him 
calmly,  passionlessly,  mercilessly.  But — and  it  was 
not  vacillation  but  a  stern  resolve  to  be  just  and  im- 
partial in  her  judgment  of  Adrien — were  not  all 
young  men  brought  up  to  believe  that  they  had  a 
right  to  take  the  love  of  women  when  it  was  offered 
to  them?  While  she  herself  and  so  many  others  had 
been  reared  in  total  ignorance  of  life,  and  prepared 
like  lambs  for  the  slaughter  and  for  the  selfishness  of 
men,  were  not  young  men  themselves  allowed  all 
licence  ? 

Thus  did  she  come  to  see  that  the  true  cause  of 
this  tragedy  must  be  sought  and  found  in  her  own 
ignorance.  Therein  lay  the  great,  the  unpardonable 
error.  Though  she  was  twenty-two  years  of  age,  she 
had  known  nothing  of  life  when  she  married.  And 
Adrien  had  chosen  her  perhaps  from  among  many 
others  precisely  because  of  her  complete  ignorance. 
She  understood  why  now.  It  was  because  he  knew 
that  she  would  be  the  easier  to  deceive.  And  this 
amazing,  truth-revealing  discovery  she  had  just  made 
was  largely  the  result  of  her  own  innocence  and  ignor- 
ance. 

That  night  was  Frangoise's  Gethsemane.  In  her 
long,  lonely  vigil  she  found  in  herself  certain  mental 
qualities  she  had  never  supposed  that  she  possessed. 
She  discovered  that  she  had  decision,  for  which  she 
had  hitherto  had  no  use  since  others  had  directed  her 
life,  her  thoughts,  and  her  actions.    And  through  the 


THE   EDUCATION  OF   JACQUELINE     41 

process  of  her  own  awakening,  she  realized  that  now 
in  her  heart  there  were  pity  and  commiseration  for 
other  women — above  all,  for  the  one  woman  who, 
though  guilty,  had  been  so  entirely  sincere  in  her  love 
for  the  man  whom  she  must  have  known  only  too 
well,  and  to  whose  egotism  she  had  yet  sacrificed  her- 
self. 

But  after  her  sudden  comprehension  of  the  truth, 
FranQoise  understood,  too,  that  although  she  had 
gained  knowledge  she  had  lost  all  hope  of  personal 
happiness  for  ever. 

Though  she  had  found  in  herself  the  strength  to 
look  at  facts  face  to  face,  and  accept  them  as  they 
were,  she  knew  that  she  would  not  be  able  to  find  the 
necessary  power  of  recuperation  to  build  up  for  her- 
self any  new  dream  of  happiness.  Though  the  sap- 
ping forces  of  her  false  education  had  not  so 
completely  exhausted  the  strength  of  her  vitality  as 
to  prevent  her  re-creating  a  new  conscience  for  her- 
self, they  had  at  least  frustrated  all  possibility  of  her 
forging  for  herself  a  new  soul,  with  strong,  ardent 
beliefs  and  eager  aspirations.  If  mentally  she  was 
still  capable  of  accepting  other  and  new  convictions 
and  of  living  up  to  them  so  that  they  might  help 
her  to  build  up  new  ideals,  she  felt  herself  for  ever 
incapable  of  feeling  new  emotions.  The  very  springs 
of  passion  in  her  had  been  suddenly  dried  up. 

She  had  been  a  betrayed  wife,  and  such  she  would 
ever  remain.  To  this  she  was  now  resigned.  She 
knew  she  would  never  find  in  herself  the  power  to 
believe  in  love  again.     .     .     .     'Ml  chances  of  per- 


42     THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

sonal  felicity  for  her  were  for  ever  destroyed.  She 
would  live  on  and  perhaps  find  a  certain  quiet  pleas- 
ure in  the  living  of  each  new  day  in  freedom — ^but 
the  only  real  joy  she  could  ever  feel  now  would  come 
to  her  from  her  child.  .  ,  .  Jacqueline  at  least 
should  not  fail  her.  Above  all,  Jacqueline  should  not 
be  deluded  and  betrayed  as  her  mother  had  been. 
IWhatever  character  her  child  might  develop  later  on, 
her  mother  would  not  allow  her  to  become  the  victim 
of  such  false  ethics  as  those  upon  which  she  herself 
had  been  reared.  All  the  conventional  fabric  of  her 
own  false  education  should  be  thrust  deliberately  out 
of  her  own  mind  so  that  Jacqueline's  mind  should 
not  be  tainted  with  it.  The  very  foundations  of  her 
own  convictions  should  be  overthrown  and  she  would 
build  up  for  herself  the  temple  of  a  new  and  personal 
philosophy  which  she  would  teach  Jacqueline,  so  that 
her  daughter  might  defend  herself  when  the  need 
should  come  to  her  for  self-defence.  The  education 
of  Jacqueline  should  be  diametrically  opposed  to  the 
education  which  she  had  herself  received.  The  girl 
should  be  allowed  to  acquire  knowledge — scientific  and 
practical — so  that  she  might  form  her  own  judgments 
and  base  them  upon  true  facts.  The  mysteries  of  life 
should  be  explained  to  her  clearly  and  cleanly.  She 
should  not  be  duped  into  learning  them  when  too  late 
to  avoid  the  responsibilities  they  brought  with  them. 
Her  daughter  should  not  be  trained  to  become  that 
artificial  product  of  a  decadent  civilisation —  la  jeune 
mie  Men  elevee — as  she  herself  had  been,  and  which 
had  been  the  parental  ideal  of  her  time.   Jacqueline 


THE   EDUCATION   OF   JACQUELINE     43 

should  be  forewarned,  therefore  forearmed,  and  so 
would  be  able  to  defend  herself.  She  should  know 
and  understand  men,  so  as  not  to  be  their  victim. 
She  should  be  taught  to  see  them  as  they  are — with 
all  their  bad,  as  well  as  their  good  qualities.  And  to 
that  end  Frangoise  promised  herself  that  even  from 
Jacqueline's  very  girlhood  she  would  encourage 
her  daughter's  friendships  with  young  men.  She 
should  be  free  and  independent,  and  should  be  enabled 
to  form  her  own  judgment  of  facts  so  as  to  possess 
not  only  the  mere  reflection  of  the  judgments  of  oth- 
ers. She  would  teach  her  daughter  to  see  life  as  it  is, 
would  encourage  enquiry,  instead  of  repelling  it  or 
falsely  contenting  it  with  specious  lies.  Above  all  she 
would  educate  her  child's  brain,  perhaps  even  at  the 
expense  of  her  heart,  rather  than  allow  her  to  become 
a  victim  of  her  own  false  sentimentality.  And  Fran- 
goise  vowed  to  herself  as  she  listened  to  the  babe's 
regular  breathing  that  Jacqueline  should  never  be  the 
credulous  victim  of  an  unscrupulous  husband  as  she 
herself  had  been. 

A!s  the  dawn  filtered  through  the  curtains,  Fran- 
Qoise  arose.  She  was  a  new  creature — ^her  mind  fully 
alert,  her  convictions  re-built.  She  almost  forgot  her 
sorrow  in  the  proud,  conscious  knowledge  of  her 
newly-awakened  soul. 

She  bent  over  the  rails  of  the  cot,  and  looked  at 
her  sleeping  child.  Yes,  Jacqueline  was  like  her 
father!  But  now  Frangoise  no  longer  rejoiced  in  the 
fact.  On  the  contrary,  all  her  faith  in  Adrien  and  all 
her  regard  for  his  character  having  disappeared  at 


44     THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

once,  she  feared  that  similarity  of  feature  would  in- 
dicate similarity  of  character.  She  trembled  with  ap- 
prehension as  she  looked  at  Jacqueline  and  wondered 
what  the  child's  future  would  be.  As  she  knelt  by  the 
side  of  the  cot,  instinctively  her  eyes  were  lifted  to  the 
white  ivory  crucifix  above  the  babe's  head.  And 
gazing  upon  it — ^at  first  vacantly — there  came  into  her 
eyes  a  look  of  wonder,  of  doubt,  of  incomprehension. 
,.  .  .  For  the  first  time  in  her  life,  as  she  gazed 
upon  the  Divine  image,  her  heart  was  unappeased  and 
held  no  reverence,  no  awe,  only  a  strange  and  angry 
revolt.  Having  lost  her  faith  in  humanity,  was  she 
about  to  lose  her  faith  in  Divinity  too?  For  had 
not  Christ  founded  the  Church,  and  had  not  the 
Church  enforced  submission?  Had  not  the  whole 
of  her  false  feminine  education  been  built  upon  the 
dogma  of  that  Catholic  Faith  which  enforces  sub- 
mission and  subservience  upon  woman  ?  Had  not  her 
education,  built  upon  the  foundation  of  the  Catholic 
Faith,  made  of  her  a  dupe  and  a  victim?  And  was 
even  the  consolation  of  the  Church  to  be  only  a  hol- 
low mockery  for  her  now  that  her  dreams  of  love  and 
faith  had  faded  ?  And  yet  another  thought  came  into 
her  mind.  Ought  she  to  teach  Jacqueline  that  doc- 
trine of  submission,  of  blind  self-sacrifice?  No — a 
thousand  times,  no!  prompted  the  fierce  revolt  in  her 
heart,  in  answer  to  her  mute  question  to  herself.  .  . 
She  closed  her  eyes,  and  bitter  hot  tears  fell  from 
beneath  her  eyelids.  Must  she  lose  everything  at  the 
same  time,  and  with  all  her  hopes  even  the  deep 
comfort  pf  her  religious  faith  ?    .Yet,  when  she  looked 


THE   EDUCATION   OF   JACQUELINE     45 

on  the  figure  of  the  Divine  Crucified,  she  felt  neither 
comfort  nor  solace.  She  tried  to  pray,  but  she  could 
not.  Though  all  her  soul  was  uplifted  in  the  divine 
exaltation  which  in  itself  is  prayer,  she  dared  not 
frame  the  words  of  Christian  humility  which  are 
those  of  the  Church.  Though  she  tried  again  and 
again  to  murmur  an  invocation  of  supreme  appeal 
that  was  not  the  prayer  of  dogma,  no  words  came 
welling  up  from  her  heart.  She  opened  her  eyes  wide 
as  if  seeking  to  find  Truth  itself  incarnate,  and,  lifting, 
her  head,  her  gaze  fell  once  more  upon  the  gleaming 
cross.  Rapidly  and  without  reflection,  acting  only 
upon  her  impulses,  she  thrust  forth  an  impious  hand 
and  tore  it  down  from  the  wall. 

At  the  roughness  of  her  cruel  gesture,  the  babe 
turned  and  murmured  in  her  sleep,  as  if  in  protest. 
For  a  few  awful  moments  Frangoise  gazed  upon  her 
child  in  frenzied  terror!  Had  some  Divine  power 
urged  her  little  one  to  oppose  her  mother's  action  in 
that  moment  of  her  supreme  rebellion?  Or  in  her 
great  stress  had  her  own  poor  feverish  brain  become 
demented?  She  recoiled  with  horror  of  her  own  ac- 
tion, and  bending  her  face  penitently  over  the  sacred 
image,  as  the  cold  chill  of  its  ivory  touched  her  burn- 
ing cheeks  she  felt  suddenly  subdued,  soothed,  com- 
forted, and  her  fingers  closed  over  it  with  tenderness 
and  reverence  once  more. 

And  then  she  knew  that  her  habit  of  piety  and 
worship  was  still  stronger  in  her  even  than  her  new- 
born will  and  revolt.  For  her  veneration  was  con- 
scious now,  and  therefore  more  true,  more  real. 


46     THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

She  bent  over  the  crucifix  and  gently,  religiously, 
kissed  the  pallid  image  which  had  meant  so  much  to 
her  in  former  days,  and  still  meant  so  much,  though 
she  had  tried  to  tear  it  from  her  heart.  Then  gently 
and  reverentially  she  placed  it  back  again  in  its  place 
over  the  child's  cot.  No,  she  would  not  destroy  her 
faith  willingly.  She  would  not  allow  her  rebellion 
against  her  own  fate  to  kill  it.  For  her  own  sake  and 
for  Jacqueline's  sake  she  would  retain  at  least  that 
one  precious  gift  of  her  early  education.  For  to  Jac- 
queline should  not  be  denied  the  consolation  of  Faith 
in  the  Divine,  if  later  on  she  felt  the  need  of  it.  The 
mother  would  teach  her  child  to  love  and  to  adore 
the  Divine  Master.     .     .     . 

And  Frangois  once  more  threw  herself  upon  her 
knees,  and,  closing  her  eyes,  now  allowed  eager  words 
of  prayer  to  gush  forth  from  her  tortured  heart.  For 
hours  she  remained  there,  imploring  Christ  to  inspire 
her  with  the  courage  to  renounce  all  human  passion 
for  ever,  so  that  she  might  save  all  her  strength  for 
her  devotion  to  her  child,  and  so  be  able  to  bring  up 
her  Jacqueline  to  a  safer  and  more  conscious  happi- 
ness than  her  own  had  been. 

And  all  through  the  night  Frangoise  prayed — 
prayed — ^prayed. 


CHAPTER    III 

When  Frangoise  rose  from  her  knees  her  limbs 
were  cold  and  stiff,  and  her  face  pale  and  deter- 
mined. Her  new  resolves  were  strong  within  her. 
She  put  all  disquieting  thoughts  resolutely  aside  and 
as  she  dressed  herself  she  settled  in  her  mind  what  her 
day's  work  was  to  be.  There  were  many  things  to 
be  attended  to — the  packing  and  arranging  of  furni- 
ture and  clothes,  the  classing  and  sorting  of  old  let- 
ters, which  was  not  yet  quite  finished,  and  the  making 
of  her  final  preparations  for  her  departure  from 
Rouen. 

Frangoise  had  decided  to  take  the  train  up  to  Paris 
that  same  afternoon  to  choose  the  papers  for  the  flat 
she  had  taken  near  the  Place  Wagram,  where  she 
intended  settling  with  Jacqueline  and  Clemence  in 
about  a  fortnight's  time.  All  through  the  days  which 
had  followed  her  husband's  death,  she  had  bitterly 
regretted  that  Pomm  was  not  in  France,  near  her,  to 
help  her  with  his  advice.  But,  alone  with  her  new 
conscience  now,  she  rejoiced  that  she  was  able  to  act 
independently.  The  fact  of  being  obliged  by  circum- 
stances to  make  her  own  decisions  increased  her 
vigour  of  mind. 

When  baby  Jacqueline  awoke,  Frangoise  lifted  her 
from  her  cot,  and  proceeded  to  wash  and  dress  her, 
and  after  she  had  spent  two  hours  in  performing  her 

47 


48      THE   EDUCATION   OF   JACQUELINE 

household  duties  and  tending  her  child,  she  sat  down 
once  more  at  the  writing-desk  in  her  room.  While 
Jacqueline  played  on  the  floor  beside  her,  she  drew  all 
Madame  Ducastel's  letters  out  of  the  drawer  they 
filled,  including  the  one  which  had  arrived  by  post  the 
night  before,  and,  carrying  the  three  packets  they 
formed  to  the  grate  of  the  room,  she  set  fire  to  them. 
At  least  half  of  her  dead  husband's  instructions  would 
thus  have  been  executed. 

The  great  mass  of  paper  made  a  huge  bonfire  in 
the  grate  and  Jacqueline,  attracted  by  the  glow  of  the 
sparks,  left  her  playthings  and  came  and  stood  by  her 
mother's  side  as  Frangoise  knelt  by  the  grate. 

"  JoH — joli!"  murmured  the  child  as  she  held  out 
her  tiny  palms  to  the  warmth  of  the  fire. 

But  Frangoise,  in  silence  watching  the  red  flames 
lick  around  each  violet  envelope  in  turn,  paid  no  heed 
to  her  daughter's  remarks,  though  she  had  instinct- 
ively thrown  her  arm  around  the  little  tottering  fig- 
ure to  save  it  from  a  too  dangerous  proximity  to  the 
blaze.  Several  letters  were  unbound  and  the 
words  written  incisively  on  their  blackened  pages 
stood  out  in  red  relief.  Here  and  there  whole  sen- 
tences could  be  clearly  read.  The  words  "  Mon  bien 
aime"  occurred  often,  and  seemed  to  mock  at  Fran- 
goise as  she  gazed.     .     .     . 

"L^  joli  feu! — le  joli  feuf*  murmured  the  child 
again  and  her  glee  made  the  mother  shiver  as  the 
crimson  incandescent  words  glowed  and  paled  among 
the  charred  cinders — "  Mon  bien  aime — mon  bien 
aime."    .     .     . 


THE    EDUCATION   OF   JACQUELINE     49 

"Ah!  Maman,  re  garde  le  beau  feu!'*  persisted 
Jacqueline  in  her  sweet  lisping  tones,  astonished  at 
her  mother's  lack  of  sympathy. 

The  leaping,  burning  tongues  had  spent  their  pas- 
sion on  the  senseless  paper  ashes  now  and  yet  Fran- 
qolse  was  silent. 

When  the  last  flames  had  died  away,  Jacqueline 
turned  to  her  mother,  a  note  of  regret  in  her  piping 
voice.  "  Oh!  Maman,  le  beau  feu  .  .  ,  U  est 
mort!" 

Suddenly  Frangoise  turned  fiercely  towards  her 
child,  and,  catching  up  the  soft  warm  little  body, 
strained  her  to  her  heart 

"  Yes,  my  darling  .  .  .  the  fire  is  dead,  dead 
— dead!  And  everything  else  too  is  dead  now — dead 
— quite  dead — except  you — my  precious  sweet !  " 
And,  kissing  the  child  passionately,  she  set  her  back 
on  to  her  feet. 

After  the  last  shreds  of  paper  had  been  consumed, 
Frangoise  still  sat  patiently  gazing  by  the  side  of  the 
grate,  though  Jacqueline  had  taken  up  her  toys  again 
and  was  playing  at  the  other  end  of  the  room.  She 
began  once  more  to  think  of  Cecile  Ducastel.  .  .  . 
What  sort  of  woman  was  this,  she  asked  herself, 
whose  last  cry  of  appeal  and  despair  had  had  such 
power  to  rouse  her  own  slumbering  heart  and  soul? 
For  Frangoise  was  bound  to  admit  to  herself  now — 
after  her  night  of  profound  perplexity  and  final  real- 
ization of  self — that  she  felt  far  less  resentment  to- 
wards Cecile  than  towards  Adrien.  For  Cecile  had 
had  claims  that  were  prior  even   to  her  own;  she 


so     THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

therefore  merited  both  her  respect  and  her  considera- 
tion. 

She  had  begun  to  understand  all  that  this  woman, 
who  had  known  and  loved  Adrien  for  so  long,  must; 
be  suffering  now  in  her  suspense  and  fear.  For 
Frangoise,  enriched  by  her  newer,  conscious  knowl- 
edge, had  reached  the  depths  of  humility  and  frankly 
owned  to  herself  that  the  mistress's  love  had  been 
far  greater  than  hers  and  of  a  nobler  kind.  Long 
ago  Cecile  must  have  measured  the  meanness  of 
Adrien's  shallow  soul,  and  yet  she  had  continued 
giving  him  royally  of  her  love  and  generous 
devotion.  Such  tenderness  was  a  far  greater  thing 
than  her  own  ignorant  feeling  for  her  husband,  bom 
merely  of  the  promptings  of  her  own  youth,  .  .  . 
Yes,  Cecile  ought  to  be  told  of  Adrien's  death  and 
told  gently  and  with  consideration.  That  thought 
thrust  itself  into  Frangoise's  mind  most  convincingly. 
Madame  Ducastel  must  no  longer  be  left  in  cruel  igno- 
rance and  suspense.  And  again  and  again  Frangoise 
asked  herself  how  was  she  to  be  told? 

Frangoise's  first  impulse  was  to  write  to  her,  but 
she  soon  relinquished  that  idea.  If  the  letter  were 
delivered  to  Madame  Ducastel  in  the  presence  of  her 
husband,  she  might,  in  the  shock  of  learning  the  ter- 
rible news,  betray  her  emotion  before  him,  and  so 
in  a  moment  ruin  the  whole  edifice  of  her  deception 
so  carefully  and  so  successfully  manoeuvred  for  ten 
years. 

Not  that  Frangoise  approved  Madame  Ducastel's 
conduct  in  deceiving  her  husband.    The  prejudices  of 


THE   EDUCATION   OF   JACQUELINE     51 

the  petite  bourgeoise  were  dying  hard  within  her,  and 
her  recoil  from  the  unfaithful  wife  was  still  very 
strong.  But  all  her  ideas  and  sentiments  had  been  so 
violently  upheaved  within  the  past  twenty-four  hours 
that  at  this  moment  her  sense  of  pity  was  almost  out 
of  proportion  to  any  other — even  her  sense  of  recti- 
tude. Indeed,  the  rude  overthrowing  of  her  own 
ideals  had  left  her  with  so  softened  a  heart  that  mo- 
mentarily her  ideas  of  right  and  wrong  were  blunted. 
She  was  determined  to  spare  the  poor  woman  the 
cruel  blow  of  learning  the  truth  in  so  brusque  a  man- 
ner as  by  means  of  a  letter.  Someone  must  tell  her 
gently,  with  feeling,  with  some  care  and  some  pity. 
She  must  not  be  brutally  informed  of  an  event  which 
would  mean  so  much  to  her.  But  who  could  go  to 
Madame  Ducastel  for  her?  There  was  no  one  she 
could  send. 

And  then  suddenly  it  came  to  her  that  she  herself 
— Frangoise — should  go  and  see  her  and  acquaint  her 
with  the  truth,  telling  her  gently  and  kindly,  as  one 
woman  who  has  suffered  can  speak  to  another  who  has 
gone  through  deep  tribulation.  The  idea  that  she,  so 
used  to  the  domination  of  others,  would  dare  to  do  so 
unusual  a  thing  as  to  go  and  acquaint  the  mistress 
of  her  own  husband  with  the  news  of  his  death,  at 
first  appalled  her  by  its  audacity.  But  it  gradually 
grew  upon  her.  Who  could  tell  what  had  first  sug- 
gested this  thought  ?  Was  it  merely  the  natural  curi- 
osity which  a  woman  feels  to  see  the  woman  who  is 
her  rival  in  her  husband's  affections?  Hardly  that, 
for  Frangoise  had  already  travelled  far  beyond  mere 


'52      THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

physical  jealousy,  and  she  could  not  feel  moral  jeal- 
ousy since  she  now  realized  that  she  had  never  been 
her  husband's  true  companion,  and  had  never  even 
shared  his  thoughts!  Then  if  the  almost  irresistible 
feeling,  which  prompted  her  to  go  herself  to  see 
Cecile,  and  to  speak  with  her,  was  based  upon  neither 
curiosity  nor  jealousy,  what  was  the  strange  appeal 
that  the  thought  of  Madame  Ducastel's  distress  made 
to  her  heart?  .  .  .  Was  it  an  impulse  of  divine 
generosity  that  led  her  to  sympathize  with  the  miser- 
able woman,  or  was  it  merely  her  sense  of  human  jus- 
tice? She  would  not  have  been  able  to  define  exactly 
what  she  felt  for  Cecile,  but  at  least  she  was  able 
to  persuade  herself  that  she  had  no  feeling  of 
either  rivalry  or  jealousy  against  the  woman  who  had 
loved  Adrien  long  before  she  herself  had  known  him 
^-and,  long  too  after  she — Cecile — ^had  realised  his 
baseness. 

She  soon  made  up  her  mind  to  take  this  uncon- 
ventional step;  and  her  decision  was  irrevocable.  No 
one  could  have  deterred  her  or  persuaded  her  from 
doing  what  she  wished.  By  her  deep  search  into  her 
own  motives,  and  by  the  convictions  concerning  her 
own  heart  and  soul  that  she  had  acquired  in  her  pro- 
cess of  enquiry,  Frangoise  was  by  degrees  becoming 
acquainted  with  the  unknown  individuality  in  herself 
hitherto  entirely  unsuspected  by  her. 

At  the  time  of  her  marriage,  Frangoise  had  often 
heard  Adrien  speak  of  the  Ducastels.  But  she  had 
never  seen  them  and  indeed  had  never  heard  of  them 
since  those  days.     For  Adrien  had  been  careful  to 


THE   EDUCATION  OE  JACQUELINE     53 

avoid  reference  to  them  so  as  not  to  arouse  his  young 
wife's  suspicions.  He  had  mentioned  the  fact  to  her 
some  time  after  his  mar  rage — ^and  quite  casually — 
that  his  appointment  at  the  Perception  had  been  ob- 
tained by  Monsieur  Ducastel,  and  that  afterwards 
the  Deputy  and  his  wife  had  left  Paris  to  live  in  the 
south  of  France.     This  had  disposed  of  them  easily. 

Frangoise  therefore,  ignoring  their  address,  had 
not  sent  them  the  formal  intimation  of  her  husband's 
death.  To  her  mind,  until  now,  both  husband  and 
wife  were  merely  people  Adrien  had  known  when 
in  Paris,  and  with  whom  he  had  been  sufficiently 
friendly  for  Ducastel  to  wish  to  further  his  interests. 
But  the  engraved  heading  of  some  of  the  letters 
within  recent  date  showed  Frangoise  that  Cecile  Du- 
castel still  occupied  the  same  hotel  irt  the  Place 
Malesherbes  which  Adrien  had  mentioned  to  her  as 
the  former  residence  of  his  friends. 

So  she  decided  to  go  there  this  very  afternoon  af- 
ter she  had  accomplished  her  business  in  Paris.  In 
taking  this  resolution,  she  firmly  believed  that  there 
was  no  other  thought  in  her  mind  but  that  of  acting 
charitably  towards  Madame  Ducastel,  who,  like  her- 
self, was  a  victim  of  Adrien's  most  selfish  interests. 
She  felt  no  resentment  against  her — no  hatred — no 
contempt.  She  was  not  even  consciously  actuated  by 
any  natural  curiosity  to  see  "the  other  woman"  in 
the  life  of  the  man  she  had  loved. 

For  she  no  longer  loved  Adrien.  Her  tenderness 
for  him,  based  upon  a  false  conception  of  his  char- 
acter, had  fallen  from  her  heart.    She  only  felt  now 


54     THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

that  divine  quality  of  sympathy  which  teaches  love  and 
urges  forgiveness,  and  which  cannot  exist  in  company 
with  hatred  or  jealousy,  or  even  vulgar  curiosity. 
She  had  made  a  stupendous  effort  to  put  away  any 
harsh  or  severe  judgment,  and  she  had  now  succeeded, 
since  she  was  able  to  view  the  situation  from  its  lof- 
tiest and  most  philosophical  standpoint.  She  in- 
tended to  go  to  Madame  Ducastel,  to  tell  her  the  truth 
gently,  to  comfort  her  if  necessary,  but  never  to  reveal 
to  her  that  she  knew  her  so  long  guarded  secret. 

But  before  she  started  on  the  way  to  perform  her 
errand  of  mercy,  she  thought  of  the  effect  it  might 
have  in  all  its  aspects  in  the  mind  of  both  Madame 
Ducastel  and  her  husband.  What  excuse  was  she  go- 
ing to  give  to  explain  her  visit  to  two  people  whom 
she  had  never  seen?  And  then  the  memory  of  Mon- 
sieur Ducastel's  former  kindness  to  Adrien  came  to 
her  aid.  It  would  be  quite  natural  that  the  young 
widow  of  Adrien  Reville,  discovering  the  address  of 
her  husband's  old  friends  among  his  papers  a  month 
after  his  death,  should  go  and  see  them  herself  and 
tell  them  the  sad  news.  Indeed,  outwardly  she  owed 
some  consideration  to  the  man  who  had  obtained 
Adrien's  post  for  him. 

It  was  half-past  two  when  FranQoise  rang  the  bell 
at  the  door  of  Number  220  Place  Malesherbes. 

She  chose  this  hour  because  she  knew  that 
Monsieur  Ducastel,  being  an  important  member  of  the 
Chamber  of  Deputies,  would  be  at  his  duty  in  the 
House  at  this  moment,  and  that  thus  her  interview 
with  Cecile  would  be  undisturbed.     Madame  Ducastel 


THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE     55 

could  explain  the  visit  to  her  husband  afterwards  as 
she  liked. 

A  man  servant  answered  her  ring.  To  her  inquiry, 
he  replied  that  Madame  Ducastel  was  at  home,  though 
she  was  just  dressing  to  go  out  and  he  could  not  af- 
firm that  she  would  "receive."  Frangoise  explained 
that  she  came  on  urgent  business,  and  wrote  her  name 
on  a  slip  of  paper  which  the  man  offered  her,  for  she 
had  purposely  not  brought  her  visiting-card,  which 
was  deeply  edged  with  black,  according  to  the  custom 
of  French  widows.  A  few  moments  later  the  servant 
returned  and  said  that  Madame  would  receive  her, 
and  Frangoise  was  shown  into  a  small  salon  on  the 
ground  floor  that  communicated  with  a  larger  salon 
by  means  of  a  wide  double  door  that  was  now  closed. 

As  she  entered  the  room,  her  glance  fell  at  once 
upon  a  photograph  of  her  husband.  It  was  framed  in 
a  small  enamel  frame  and  set  upon  the  diminutive 
bureau  that  occupied  one  comer  of  the  room.  Fran- 
Qoise  stood  before  it  and  gazed  at  it  for  several  mo- 
ments. She  had  never  seen  this  particular  picture  be- 
fore. It  was  an  old  portrait,  and  represented  a  much 
younger-looking  Adrien  than  she  had  ever  known, 
with  an  immature  countenance  and  a  budding  mous- 
tache. The  expression  was  smiling  and  winning.  It 
was  the  face  of  a  man  who  w^ould  attract  many 
women  and  be  greatly  beloved  by  one  or  two.  Fran- 
Qoise  sighed  as  she  looked  at  it.  It  seemed  to  her  as 
if  it  were  the  picture  of  a  stranger  or  of  a  person 
whom  she  had  not  seen  for  years  and  had  almost  for- 
gotten.    She  had  travelled  so  far  along  the  road  of 


56     THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

knowledge  and  experience  since  the  day  before,  that 
she  felt  aloof  from  all  that  had  been  part  and  par- 
cel of  her  late  husband.  Yet  she  felt  some  emotion, 
here  in  this  small  room  with  its  dim  soft  light  and 
luxurious  furnishing,  as  one  always  feels  when  one 
stands  upon  the  spot  where  a  great  love  has  passed 
by.     .     .     . 

Here  Adrien  and  Cecile  had  evidently  often  met, 
and  loved,  and  vowed  the  eternal  vow  of  all  lovers. 
It  seemed  strange  to  her — yet  Frangoise  could  not 
throw  off  a  feeling  of  personal  detachment,  and  it 
seemed  to  her  almost  as  if  she  were  trespassing  here 
in  this  warm  boudoir.  Wide  and  luxurious  divans 
stretched  along  the  walls,  bibelots  of  silver  and  china 
were  dispersed  everywhere,  alternating  with  fancy 
frames  containing  the  photographs  of  friends, 
amongst  which  was  the  picture  of  Adrien. 

A  soft  rustling  sound  caused  Frangoise  to  look 
round.  Cecile  Ducastel  stood  in  the  doorway.  She 
was  a  much  older  woman  than  Frangoise  had  expected 
to  see,  and  her  face  looked  haggard  and  drawn,  as 
if  anxiety  and  weeping  had  greatly  altered  its  natural 
charm. 

She  made  a  visible  effort  to  look  impassible — ^but  to 
one  who  knew  the  anxiety  at  her  heart,  the  signs  of 
her  deep  emotion  were  evident  in  the  only  half-sub- 
dued quivering  of  her  delicate  nostrils  and  the  trem- 
bling of  her  mobile  lips.  She  was  a  tall,  lithe  creature, 
slim — yet  not  too  thin.  Her  coiffure  was  somewhat 
elaborate  and  conventional,  but  her  fair  hair  was 
still   luxuriant,    although    many    silver    threads    ran 


THE    EDUCATION   OF   JACQUELINE     57 

through  it.  Her  large  blue-grey  eyes  were  beautiful 
and  clear,  but  held  so  deep  an  expression  of  baffled 
hope — of  sad,  yet  tender  memories — that  Frangoise's 
heart  was  drawn  to  her  in  still  greater  sympathy  than 
before.  But  she  remained  immobile,  and  waited  for 
Madame  Ducastel  to  speak  first. 

Cecile  paused  on  the  threshold  as  she  entered, 
paused  because  of  the  sudden  terror  at  her  heart,  for, 
seeing  Frangoise  dressed  in  the  deep  pointed  shawl 
and  long  black  crape  veil  of  French  widows,  she  had 
received  a  terrible  shock.  Yet  she  dared  not  tell  her- 
self what  was  the  fear  that  clutched  at  her  heart.  So 
she  stood  motionless,  gazing  vacantly,  yet  with  a 
nameless  terror  filling  her  eyes  as  she  looked  upon 
her  visitor  and  driving  away  the  natural  delicate  tints 
of  her  face,  leaving  her  ghastly  white.  Frangoise  in 
her  shrouding  garments  stood  motionless  too — wait- 
ing. 

Then  Madame  Ducastel,  urging  aside  all  her  fears, 
made  a  tremendous  efifort  and  advanced  towards  her 
with  the  outstretched  hand  and  conventional  smile  of 
the  society  hostess  suddenly  achieved. 

"  Chere  madame!  to  what  good  fortune  do  I  owe 
the  pleasure  of  this  unexpected  visit?" 

Frangoise  pressed  the  hand  held  out  to  her,  and  did 
not  relinquish  it  immediately.  She  was  very  pale, 
and  her  face  wore  no  smile,  though  her  eyes  were 
soft. 

"  Hclas,  madame!  it  is  no  good  fortune  but  bad 
fortune  which  brings  me  to  you." 

"  What  is  it?"  gasp'fed  Cecile.    She  understood  now 


58     THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

and  strong  agony  gripped  her  heart,  followed  im- 
mediately by  a  supreme  instinctive  effort  to  hide  her 
feelings  from  her  visitor.  She  knew  what  Franqoise's 
next  words  would  be  before  she  uttered  them,  but 
was  in  terror  at  the  thought  of  hearing  them  ex- 
pressed. She  closed  her  eyes  instinctively,  as  with  a 
gesture  of  invitation  she  motioned  to  Frangoise  to 
sit  down  on  the  divan  beside  her — conscious  only  of 
the  one  fact  that  Franqoise  was  Adrien's  wife,  and 
that  she  must  not  betray  herself.  She  bent  her  head 
and  motioned  again  to  Frangoise  to  continue  speaking. 
And  Frangoise,  putting  her  hand  gently  upon  Cecile's 
wrist,  spoke. 

"  My  husband  died  a  month  ago,  mddame.  I  have 
come  to  tell  you  this  sad  news  myself — ^because  I 
know  what  affection  you  and  your  husband  once  had 
for  him — as  he  had  for  you." 

For  a  few  seconds,  which  seemed  aeons  of  time, 
there  was  silence  between  the  two  women.  Cecile 
was  battling  against  her  emotion,  yet  was  making  a 
valiant  effort  to  hide  her  feelings  from  Frangoise. 
She  tried  to  simulate  the  attitude  of  an  old  friend 
who  learns  of  the  death  of  a  young  man  to  whom 
she  has  been  attached  as  a  friend,  and  nothing  more. 
She  strove  with  all  her  might  to  stave  back  the  in- 
effable agony  which  strained  her  bosom,  bidding  her- 
self wait  until  in  the  solitude  of  her  closed  room  she 
might  give  way  to  her  despair. 

Frangoise  meanwhile  sat  by  her  side,  apparently, 
unmoved,    though    in    reality   deeply   touched.     She 
knew  at  once  by  her  attitude  that  Cecile  believed  her 


THE   EDUCATION   OF   JACQUELINE     59 

to  be  entirely  ignorant  of  her  own  relations  with 
Adrien. 

"  You  must  excuse  me,  madame,  but  this  is  a  great 
shock  to  me,"  said  Cecile  at  last,  pressing  FrangoiseV 
hand  which  still  lay  on  her  arm.  "  I  knew  your  poor 
husband  when  he  was  almost  a  lad.  I  had  been  in- 
terested in  his  career  for  many  years.  .  .  .  Sud- 
den death  is  always  so  tragic.  .  .  ."  And  Cecile 
let  the  tears  unrepressed  flow  down  her  cheeks. 

"Yes,  madame,  I  know,  I  know,"  said  Frangoise, 
and  she  drew  nearer  and  threw  her  arms  around 
Madame  Ducastel's  shoulders,  pressing  her  to  her 
heart  as  if  to  comfort  the  miserable  woman  in  her 
despair.  "Adrien  often  spoke  to  me  of  you  and  your 
husband  with  affection  and  gratitude,  and  I  wanted 
to  tell  you  the  dreadful  news  myself  so  that  it  should 
not  come  to  you  unexpectedly  by  letter." 

Cecile  again  bowed  her  head,  and  bade  her  heart 
stand  still.  Then  she  spoke,  but  she  hardly  recog- 
nised her  own  voice. 

"How  did  it  happen?" 

"He  caught  a  chill  on  his  way  Home  from  Paris 
last  month  when  he  came  up  to  see  the  Minister," 
replied  Franqoise. 

She  was  determined  to  betray  none  of  her  knowl- 
edge to  Cecile,  and  repeated  Adrien's  oft-told  conven- 
tional lie  herself  as  if  she  really  believed  it. 

Cecile  reflected.  Then  he  had  died  only  a  few 
days  after  he  had  last  left  her ! 

She  closed  her  eyes  once  more. 

Then  suddenly  she  turned  and  looked  at  Frangoise. 


6o     THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

She  remembered  that  she  was  Adrien's  widow,  and 
again  she  resolved  to  put  away  her  own  sorrow  as  if 
forgetting  it  entirely,  letting  it  bide  its  time.  She  in 
her  turn  put  her  hand  impulsively  on  Frangoise's 
shoulder  and  looked  her  straight  in  the  face. 

"You  poor,  poor  girl!  What  will  you  do  alone 
in  the  world  with  your  child  now  ?  " 

For  she  had  heard  much  about  Frangoise  through 
Adrien,  who  had  told  her  that  his  wife  had  been  most 
carefully  and  conventionally  trained,  and  that  she 
was  incapable  of  managing  her  own  affairs. 

"  I  hope  I  shall  have  enough  strength  and  fortitude 
to  do  my  duty  and  to  bring  up  my  daughter  alone," 
she  replied  with  some  dignity. 

Cecile  was  astonished  to  find  Frangoise  so  different 
from  what  Adrien  had  represented  her  to  be.  She 
could  not  guess  the  tragedy  which  had  suddenly  trans- 
formed the  woman  before  her,  and  Franqoise  was 
determined  to  make  every  effort  that  she  should  never 
know. 

"  Poor,  poor  Adrien !  "  murmured  Cecile.  Her 
mind  had  reverted  again  to  her  sorrow  against  her 
will.  "He  was  so  young — so  full  of  life — ^and  of 
the  joy  of  life!" 

She  restrained  her  tears  and,  pointing  to  the  por- 
trait of  Adrien  which  Frangoise  had  first  noticed: 
"  There  is  his  portrait,  when  we  first  knew  him.  He 
was  about  twenty-five  then.  Such  a  beautiful  crea- 
ture, full  of  vitality  and  eagerness  to  live  and  to  be 
happy ! " 

Frangoise  made  no  reply.     She  gazed  upon   the 


THE   EDUCATION   OF   JACQUELINE     6i 

portrait  in  silence.  But  no  tears  came  to  her  eyes, 
and  Cecile,  looking  upon  her  impassibility,  said  to 
herself  that  Adrien  had  been  quite  right  when  h^ 
had  told  her  that  his  wife  was  not  a  woman  of 
feeling. 

Then  Frangoise  rose  to  go.  There  was  no  more 
to  be  said  between  them.  She  understood  the  con- 
straint that  Cecile  was  putting  upon  herself  and 
longed  to  get  away  and  leave  the  wretched  woman 
alone. 

"Then  what  have  you  decided  to  do?"  asked 
Cecile  again,  as  she  rose  also  and  stood  before 
Frangoise.  She  framed  the  words  mechanically  for 
mere  politeness*  sake,  because  inwardly  she  was 
hoping— desperately — that  this  mute  widow  would 
go  and  leave  her  alone,  so  that  she  might  give  her- 
self up  to  her  tears. 

"I  am  going  to  take  a  small  flat  in  Paris  and  live 
with  my  daughter,  madame.  I  have  no  relations, 
no  friends.  Will  you  please  give  my  regards  to 
Monsieur  Ducastel,  and  tell  him  that  I  came  myself 
to  tell  you  the  sad  news,  because  I  knew  that  Adrien 
owed  so  much  to  him?" 

As  Cecile,  half  dazed  by  the  sorrow  against  which 
she  fought  so  hard,  made  no  answer,  Frangoise  con- 
tinued :  "  I  must  now  take  my  train  back  to  Rouen. 
Good-bye,  madame." 

"But  can't  I  do  anything  for  you — you  poor 
child?"  urged  Madame  Ducastel  again,  forcing  her- 
self to  speak.  "  My  husband  is  very  powerful.  He 
might  be  able  to  be  of  use  to  you  in  some  way.    There 


62     THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

are  certain  privileges  for  which  the  widows  of  high 
functionaries  may  apply  to  the  State — if  necessary. 
.  You  must  surely  need  some  help  or  some 
advice,  even  if  you  do  not  require  pecuniary 
aid.     ..." 

"Oh,  no— no — ^no,  madame!  Do  not  speak  so, 
I  beg  you.  I  could  not  accept  anything — morally  or 
materially — from  anyone,"  cried  Frangoise  with  such 
sudden  fervour  that  Cecile  Ducastel  stepped  back 
imperceptibly  and  looked  at  her  visitor  in  surprise. 
And  Frangoise  added  with  more  self  possession: 
"  You  are  very  kind,  but  I  want  nothing  and  shall 
not  ask  for  any  help  from  the  Administration.  I 
have  sufficient  means  of  my  own.  My  own  dowry 
brings  me  in  an  income  that  will  be  ample  for  me  f' 
live  on.  It  is  good  of  you  to  suggest  helping  rne. 
But  I  can  accept  no  assistance." 

The  dignity  and  the  proud  attitude  of  Frangoise 
at  once  impressed  Cecile  with  a  respect  she  never 
thought  she  would  feel  for  the  characterless  girl  whom 
she  had  formerly  advised  her  lover  to  marry,  only 
because  of  her  large  dowry. 

And  FranQoise,  not  waiting  for  Madame  Ducastel 
tO  ring  for  the  servant,  pressed  Cecile's  hand  again 
with  sympathy  and  passed  lightly  out  of  the  room 
alone  and  through  the  hall,  closing  the  street-door 
gently  behind  her. 


CHAPTER    IV 

On  Jacqueline's  seventh  birthday,  Pomm,  who  had 
now  taken  his  pension  and  was  definitively  settled  in 
Paris,  came  to  lunch,  to  celebrate  the  event,  at  the 
small  flat  where  Frangoise  and  her  daughter  had  been 
living  for  the  past  three  years.  To-day  was  a  doubly 
interesting  occasion,  for  that  morning,  for  the  first 
time,  Jacqueline  had  solemnly  entered  the  portals  of 
the  Lycee  Racine  as  a  pupil. 

"  Seven  years  old !  It  is  the  age  of  reason,  my 
dear,"  said  old  Pomm  affectionately,  as  Jacqueline 
came  up  to  him  to  be  kissed  and  congratulated.  She 
lifted  her  flowerlike  face  to  his  with  spontaneous 
affection,  and  her  golden  curls  were  merged  for  an 
instant  into  the  silver  of  his  grey  beard. 

"Oh,  I'm  sure  I'm  very  reasonable,  as  Maman 
will  tell  you,  Uncle  Pomm.  Am  I  not  ?  "  she  said, 
turning  to  her  mother,  who,  smiling,  nodded  a  rather 
dubious  answer. 

"  I  went  to  the  Lycee  this  morning,"  volunteered 
Jacqueline  to  Pomm.  "  It  was  rather  amusing. 
There  are  thirty  girls  in  my  class,  and  the  mistress 
is  very  kind  and  not  a  bit  strict.      .      .      ." 

"  What  lessons  did  you  do  this  morning,  my  dear  ?  " 
asked  Pomm. 

"  We  learned  some  English.  I  recited  *  Twinkle, 
twinkle,  little  star'  better  than  any  of  the  others. 
They  all  pronounce  English  very  badly  in  my  class ! " 

63 


64     THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE 

"  Indeed !  "  said  Pomm.  "  But  it's  not  astonishing 
if  you  speak  better  English  than  most  of  your  com- 
panions. .  .  .  You  must  not  forget  that  I 
taught  you  to  recite  and  sing  English  nursery  rhymes 
when  you  were  almost  a  baby." 

**!Yes,  that's  true,"  answered  Jacqueline  simply. 
She  spoke  correctly  and  precisely,  selecting  her  words 
carefully  and  more  like  a  grown-up  person  than  like 
a  child. 

She  was  standing  in  front  of  Pomm,  with  her  face 
towards  his,  and,  resting  her  hands  upon  his  parted 
knees,  she  amused  herself  by  raising  herself  up 
and  down  several  times.  Suddenly  her  bobbing  head 
struck  a  sharp  blow  underneath  Pomm's  chin. 

The  old  mariner  rubbed  the  sore  spot  ruefully,  but 
said  nothing.  The  child  had  stopped  her  acrobatic 
movements  and  stood  waiting  to  see  if  he  would  speak. 

"  You've  hurt  Pomm,  you  naughty  monkey !  "  said 
FranQoise  rising  hurriedly,  and  going  towards  her 
little  daughter.  "  See,  you've  hurt  him  very  much 
with  your  romping.    But  he  is  too  good  to  say  so." 

"  Oh,  a  little  knock  like  that  won't  hurt  him,  Maman 
cherie"  quoth  Jacqueline.  "  He's  a  man ;  he  can  bear 
it." 

Both  Pomm  and  Frangoise  looked  at  Jacqueline, 
trying  to  appear  severe.  But  both  were  doing  their 
utmost  to  refrain  from  laughing. 

"You  might  at  least  apologize  to  Uncle  Pomm," 
said  Frangoise  at  last. 

"Oh,  certainly,"  said  Jacqueline,  and  she  moved 
towards  Pomm,  and,  stroking  his  hand,  kissed  him 


THE   EDUCATION   OF   JACQUELINE     65 

gently  on  one  cheek.  "  Poor  old  Pomm !  I  didn't 
hurt  you  really,  did  I?" 

"  No,  not  much,"  said  Pomm.  And  he  smiled  and 
kissed  her  back  again. 

"  There,  you  see !  '*  said  Jacqueline  triumphantly 
to  her  mother,  "I  told  you  he  didn't  mind."  Al- 
though it  was  Frangoise's  aim  to  suppress  in  her  child's 
heart  all  over-sensibility  that  might  be  the  means  of 
suffering  for  her  later  on  in  life,  there  were  times  when 
she  was  almost  appalled  at  her  own  handiwork,  and 
Jacqueline's  incipient  heartlessness  terrified  her.  She 
looked  at  the  child  almost  with  terror.  But  faithful 
to  her  resolved  principles,  she  allowed  a  sterner  reason 
to  get  the  better  of  her  more  natural  instincts  and  she 
did  not  chide  Jacqueline  for  her  lack  of  feeling. 

Having  got  the  best  of  her  mother,  which  she  nearly 
always  did  on  such  occasions,  Jacqueline  turned  her 
attention  once  more  to  Pomm  and  said  sweetly: 
"  What  have  you  got  for  my  birthday,  Uncle  Pomm 
— «h?" 

"If  you  go  out  into  the  hall,  and  fetcH  a  parcel 
that  is  lying  by  the  side  of  my  hat  and  coat,  you  will 
see,"  said  Pomm. 

Alnd  Jacqueline  flew. 

"You  see  what  she  is  like,  mon  ami"  said  Fran- 
^oise  to  Pomm.  "  I  can  never  get  the  better  of  her, 
and  yet,  even  when  she  knows  she  is  in  the  wrong, 
she  disarms  me  at  once  with  her  wilful  charm.  She  is 
terribly  like  her  father  in  some  ways.  I  am  appalled 
at  times,  yet  I  feel  powerless  to  prevent  it." 

"  .Why  should  you  try  to  prevent  it,  dear  friend  ?  '* 


66     THE  EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE 

"Because  I  do  so  hope  that  Jacqueline  will  be  up- 
right, straightforward,  and  sincere.  I  have  suffered 
so  much  retrospectively,  when  I  have  thought  of 
Adrien's  charm  and  remembered  how  lie  used  to  put 
it  to  the  service  of  his  most  selfish  desires  when  he 
wished  to  gain  some  benefit.  He  knew  the  power 
of  his  winning  ways,  and  he  used  them  consciously 
as  a  weapon  to  his  own  ends,  I  see  signs  of  the  same 
characteristic  traits  in  Jacqueline,  and  they  appal  me. 
You  see  how  she  wheedled  you  just  now ! " 

"Yes,  she  is  a  winsome  sprite,"  said  Pomm,  smil- 
ing. Pomm's  philosophy  led  him  to  accept  character 
as  it  was,  and  not  to  try  and  amend  it  in  any  way.  "  I 
should  not  trouble  about  those  childish  little  ruses  if 
I  were  you.  You  cannot  educate  a  creature  merely 
with  reason.  Let  her  develop  along  her  own  lines, 
and  correct  what  you  think  absolutely  wrong  as  you 
go  along.  The  best  educationalist  cannot  do  more 
than  that." 

"  Yes,  but  she  frightens  me  sometimes  with  her 
hard  common-sense  too,"  said  Frangoise.  "  Only  the 
other  day  I  was  giving  her  a  music  lesson,  and  she 
would  not  pay  attention.  So  I  left  her  alone  in  the 
drawing-room,  telling  her  that  I  should  not  come  back 
to  her  until  she  had  made  up  her  mind  to  give  all  her 
energies  to  her  work.  Thereupon  systematically  she 
set  up  a  dismal  howling,  which  she  would  not  stop. 
After  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour  of  such  exercise, 
I  opened  the  door  and  said  to  her :  *  It  is  perfectly 
useless  to  go  on  howling  like  that,  Jacqueline.  You 
know  very  well  that  it  does  not  appeal  to  me  at  all.* 


THE   EDUCATION   OF   JACQUELINE     e>7 

Thereupon  she  suddenly  stopped.  'Doesn't  it  move 
you,  then?*  she  asked.  *Not  in  the  least/  I  an- 
swered. Then  she  took  out  her  pocket-handkerchief 
and  dried  her  eyes.  And  quite  calmly  she  said: 
*  Well,  as  it  doesn't  affect  you,  I  need  not  go  on/  " 

Pomm  laughed  immoderately  at  this  story. 

"Oh,  don't  laugh,  Pomm — ^please  don't/'  said 
Frangoise  with  some  vexation.  "Do  tell  me  what 
I  ought  to  do  when  she  says  such  things." 

"  Well,  what  did  you  say  in  this  particular  in- 
stance ?  " 

"Nothing.  I  left  the  room  and  closed  the  door, 
trying  hard  not  to  laugh.  But  in  reality  I  was  ter- 
ribly vexed  with  myself." 

"  My  dear  friend !  You  may  be  educating  Jacque- 
line, and  I  am  sure  that  you  are  doing  your  best. 
But  what  is  certainly  achieved  so  far,  is  that  Jacque- 
line is  educating  youl " 

"What  is  the  use  of  your  friendship,  Pomm,  if 
you  can't  say  more  useful  things  than  that?"  began 
Frangoise  hotly,  when  Jacqueline  came  skipping  back 
into  the  room  with  a  new  doll  which  she  had  managed 
to  extricate  from  the  parcel  that  Pomm  had  brought 
her.    It  was  dressed  as  a  sailor-boy. 

"  I'm  glad  it's  a  boy-doll,"  said  Jacqueline.  "  I've 
got  three  lady-dolls  and  they'll  keep  him  in  order — 
like  Maman  and  I  do  you,"  she  said,  turning  to 
Pomm. 

This  was  her  only  mode  of  thanks. 

"  Didn't  you  find  anything  else  besides  the  doll  in 
that  parcel,  Jacqueline?"  asked  Pomm. 


68     THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

"Oh,  yes,"  replied  Jacqueline  casually.  "Yes,  I 
found  an  old  dirty  book  too.  But  I  left  it  in  the 
hall  ...  I  thought  it  was  for  Mmnan."  She 
ran  out  into  the  hall  again,  and  returned  shortly 
with  the  book  in  her  hand.  "  There  !'^  she  said, 
giving  it  to  her  mother.  "  It's  hardly  worth  having. 
It's  so  old  and  nasty." 

Frangoise  opened  it,  glanced  at  it,  and  saw  that 
it  was  a  work  on  the  Education  of  Woman  by  Greard. 

"I  found  that  on  the  quay  for  six  sous  as  I  was 
coming  here,"  explained  Pomm. 

Frangoise  smiled.  Pomm,  who  by  this  time  had 
almost  entirely  filled  up  his  flat  with  secondhand 
books,  now  took  every  opportunity  of  bringing  her 
his  latest  bargains.  Soon,  if  she  did  not  take  care, 
she  foresaw  that  her  own  flat  would  be  the  prey  of 
Pomm's  hobby  too.  But  she  thanked  her  old  friend, 
and  presently  Clemence  came  in  to  say  that  lunch 
was  served. 

Jacqueline  flew  to  her  to  show  her  the  boy-doll. 

"  He's  a  sailor-boy.  He  used  to  be  one  of  the  crew 
on  Pomm's  ship,"  she  explained  to  the  maid,  who 
was  hurrying  her  off  to  wash  her  hands  before  the 
meal.  For  the  child  had  a  wonderful  imagination,  and 
was  always  inventing  romantic  explanations  of  the 
most  ordinary  things. 

Five  minutes  later  she  entered  the  dining-room 
where  her  mother  and  Pomm  were  already  seated  at 
the  table,  with  hair  fresh-brushed,  and  hands  pink 
and  damp  from  a  recent  vigorous  ablution.  Instead 
of  taking  her  place  quietly,   she  took  a  short  run 


I 


THE   EDUCATION   OF   JACQUELINE     69 

and  leapt  into  it  like  a  boy,  and  her  skirts,  flying  up 
round  her,  disclosed  her  bare  legs  and  her  rosy 
knees. 

"  Jacqueline ! "  said  her  mother  in  a  tone  of  re- 
proof, "  where  have  you  learnt  such  boyish  man- 
ners?" 

"  I  saw  the  little  boy  in  the  concierge's  loge  do 
that,"  said  Jacqueline  unabashed.  "  I  can  do  it  almost 
as  well  as  he  can  now !  " 

Her  mother  was  dumfounded,  and  found  no  im- 
mediate answer. 

But  this  time  Pomm  intervened.  He  believed  it 
to  be  his  duty  sometimes  to  collaborate  with  her 
mother  in  the  undertaking  of  Jacqueline's  education. 

"If  you  jump  about  like  that  and  show  your  legs, 
you'll  never  get  a  husband  later  on,  Jacqueline !  Men 
don't  like  tomboy  girls  who  show  their  legs." 

"  I  can't  help  that,"  said  Jacqueline,  philosophically. 
"The  man  who  marries  me  must  take  me  as  I  am, 
or  he  won!t  get  me  at  all." 

So  saying,  she  picked  up  her  spoon  daintily,  and 
began  breaking  the  shell  of  a  boiled  egg. 

And  both  Frangoise  and  Pomm  realized  that  in  this 
particular  argument  Jacqueline  had  once  more  got  the 
better  of  them. 

"iFranQoise  Reville,  after  settling  down  in  Paris 
with  Jacqueline  and  Clemence,  had  very  gradually 
but  very  apparently  altered.  The  sudden  revolution 
which  had  been  brought  about  in  her  mental  and 
spiritual  self  after  the  discovery  of  her  husband's 
true  character  had  affected  her  outwardly  as  well  as 


70     THE  EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE 

inwardly.  Her  face  never  regained  the  frank  loolc 
of  ingenuous  belief  which  had  been  its  chief  charac- 
teristic, and  which  had  proved  to  the  outside  world 
that  she  was  genuinely  delighted  with  it,  and  quite 
willing  to  take  it  at  its  own  exaggerated  valuation, 
as  an  excellent  and  most  kindly  thing.  But  what 
her  expression  had  lost  of  innocent  youth,  it  had 
gained  in  sweetness  and  depth.  Though  her  eyes  and 
mouth  smiled  less  spontaneously,  they  had  a  deeper 
and  softer  serenity  which  was  the  result  of  her  ac- 
quaintance with  sorrow.  And  this  lent  a  great  charm 
to  her  face. 

Paris,  too,  did  for  her  what  it  does  for  most 
women,  foreigners  and  provincials,  who  come  to  her 
in  the  full  bloom  of  their  womanhood.  It  gave  her  a 
subtle  comprehension  of  her  own  femininity.  It  gave 
her  even  more.  The  life  she  led  after  she  had 
definitely  settled  down  in  the  capital  was  entirely 
different  from  the  life  she  had  led  with  Adrien  at 
Rouen.  There  she  had  been  the  submissive,  loving, 
tender  wife,  who  allowed  herself  to  be  as  wax  in  the 
hands  of  her  husband.  When  he  had  married  her,  he 
had  wished  Frangoise  to  give  herself  up  entirely  to 
the  material  comfort  of  his  home  and  of  himself. 
He  had  done  as  he  had  intended  to  do  before  his  mar- 
riage— and  had  moulded  his  wife  to  his  own  ideas. 
With  the  restricting  influences  of  her  husband's 
narrow  view,  and  of  the  equally  limited  ideals  of 
provincial  society,  Frangoise  had  allowed  her  brain 
to  stagnate,  just  as  it  had  stagnated  in  her  early 
youth   at  the  convent.     The  poor  girl  had   indeed 


THE   EDUCATION   OF   JACQUELINE     71 

begun  to  believe  that  all  effort  towards  the  acquiring 
of  a  clearer  or  more  cultured  mentality  was  abso- 
lutely wrong,  and  she  had  finally  abandoned  herself 
entirely  and  without  resistance  to  Adrien's  training. 
But  Paris  had  awakened  her  intellectually  as  well 
as  morally — at  least  as  far  as  she  was  capable. 
After  she  had  first  settled  there,  she  had  made 
several  acquaintances  by  the  help  of  a  few  friends 
of  her  husband's  who  had  received  him  into 
their  houses  when  he  was  a  young  man  alone  in  the 
city.  These  acquaintances  now  came  to  her  in  sym- 
pathy and  friendship,  and  this  led  to  the  making  of 
others.  By  degrees  she  collected  quite  a  pleasant 
circle  around  her.  And  with  careful  selection  her 
chosen  companions  were  those  who  were  interesting  in 
themselves — -writers,  painters,  professors  of  both 
sexes,  and  a  few  political  men  and  their  wives.  Fran- 
^oise  was  fond  of  reading,  and  now  she  was  free 
to  read  what  she  chose,  being  no  longer  in  any  lead- 
ing-strings. With  Pomm's  help — who  lent  or  bought 
her  all  the  books  she  required — she  rapidly  became  a 
well-read  woman,  deeply  interested  in  all  forms  of 
thought  and  action  of  her  time,  and  well  versed  in 
artistic,  literary,  and  even  political,  matters.  Jac- 
queline now  did  not  take  up  all  her  time,  al- 
though she  was  devoted  to  her  and  watched  over  her 
child  most  carefully.  But  she  no  longer  tended 
her  as  she  formerly  had  done.  She  taught  her  now 
to  look  after  herself.  She  wished  to  develop  in  her 
at  an  early  age,  and  concerning  the  most  material  and 
ordinary  things,  a  spirit  of  self-dependence  and  of  per- 


^2     THE   EDUCATION   OF   JACQUELINE 

sonal  initiative.  And  though  she  still  made  all  Jac- 
queline's clothes,  when  the  child  began  to  go  to  the 
Lycee,  there  were  many  more  hours  of  freedom  at 
Frangoise's  disposal. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  she  began  to  take  more 
interest  in  herself,  too,  and  in  her  own  person.  Her 
Parisian  women  friends  initiating  her  into  the  mys- 
teries of  the  toilet,  she  learned  many  small  secrets 
which  were  helpful  to  her.  She  had  been  a  simple, 
serious  girl,  strong  and  healthy  and  inclined  to  be 
fond  of  pretty  clothes,  but  she  had  never  been  told 
that  she  was  good-looking,  and  had  never  given  her 
personal  appearance  much  thought.  Now,  in  contact 
with  other  women  who  were  dainty  Parisiennes  with 
the  subtle,  acquired  charm  of  their  species,  Frangoise 
was  urged  to  pay  more  attention  to  herself,  and  by 
degrees  the  quiet,  reserved,  and  somewhat  colourless 
young  woman  had  blossomed  out  into  a  consciously 
charming  creature.  But,  though  Frangoise  took  great 
pains  to  improve  her  personal  appearance  and  had 
gained  more  skill  in  the  choosing  of  her  gowns,  she 
took  an  interest  in  her  physical  self  merely  for  the 
genuine  pleasure  of  pleasing  her  friends.  She  had  no 
thought  of  sex-conquest.  All  love-interest  seemed  for 
ever  to  have  been  crushed  out  of  her.  There  was,  as 
it  were,  a  numbness  in  her  brain  concerning  the  oppo- 
site sex  that  was  most  strange. 

This  was  not  wholly  the  result  of  her  conscious 
will,  but  largely  of  her  primary  education.  Although 
she  now  rebelled  mentally  against  the  ethics  of  self- 
immolation  which  had  been  the  basis  of  her  upbring- 
ing, most  of  the  early  teachings  she  had  received  were 


THE   EDUCATION  OF   JACQUELINE     73 

too  deeply  rooted  to  be  eradicated  even  by  the  force 
of  her  will.  She  had  assimilated  a  habit  of  supine 
resignation  by  internal  as  well  as  by  external  persua- 
sion, and  it  had  become  so  completely  a  part  of  her 
nature  that  she  could  no  longer  find  in  herself  the 
moral  strength  by  means  of  which  she  might  have 
freed  herself  from  its  urgings.  After  her  one  great 
and  supreme  act  of  decision — ^born  of  a  sudden  sym- 
pathy and  understanding  for  a  woman  whom  she  con- 
sidered still  more  unfortunate  than  herself,  which  de- 
cision had  resulted  in  her  visit  to  Madame  Ducastel — 
all  energy  for  fresh  and  spontaneous  actions — individ- 
ually thought  out — ^had  left  her  and  she  had  fallen 
back  once  more  into  her  acquired  passivity.  Indeed, 
it  had  so  entirely  sapped  her  virile  force  that  it  had  de- 
prived her  spirit  of  all  self-reliance,  of  all  belief  in 
self.  Self-abnegation  once  more  now  formed  so  in- 
trinsic a  part  of  herself  that  it  debarred  her  from  all 
hope  of  recreating  her  own  personality.  But  her  in- 
tuition, which  had  only  been  repressed  and  not  entirely 
stamped  out,  was  still  sufficiently  unimpaired  to  guide 
her  consciously  in  the  task  of  educating  her  daughter 
on  a  totally  different  system  from  that  of  her  own 
education. 

All  capacity  for  love,  passion,  and  devotion  she  now 
had  left  in  her,  was  centred  upon  her  child.  It  was 
more  than  mere  motherly  affection  which  she  gave 
to  Jacqueline.  There  was  in  her  love  for  her  daughter 
all  the  eager  hope  of  the  woman  who  has  not  lived 
her  own  life,  and  who,  having  been  cheated  out  of  her 
own  legitimate  share  of  happiness,  wishes  to  get  even 
with  destiny  in  the  person  of  her  child.    She  was  de- 


74     THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

termined  that  Jacqueline  should  be  all  that  she  her- 
self could  never  be — indeed,  could  never  have  been. 
Frangoise  wished  to  help  the  development  in  her 
daughter  of  all  the  natural  human  hopes,  desires, 
yearnings  and  urgings  which  had  been  so  wilfully 
suppressed  in  herself — and  which,  unchecked,  might 
have  led  her  to  wish  to  taste  more  deeply  of  the  knowl- 
edge of  life.  And  though  she  knew  that  this  spirit, 
once  developed  in  Jacqueline,  might  teach  her  child 
many  keen  sorrows  from  which  her  own  forced  re- 
pression had  sheltered  her,  at  least  she  was  determined 
that  Jacqueline  should  not  suffer  the  unsatisfying, 
savourless  sorrows  of  the  women  of  a  former  genera- 
tion, who  were  systematically  trained  to  accept  the 
false  for  the  real,  and  denied  their  lawful  inheritance 
of  human  joy.  She  had  also  fearlessly  considered  the 
possibility  of  Jacqueline's  natural  tenderness  being 
restrained — perhaps  even  destroyed — by  over  develop- 
ment of  her  intellect  and  will.  But  she  was  prepared 
to  accept  even  this  contingency,  rather  than  allow 
her  child  to  become  over  sentimentalised  as  she  her- 
self had  been. 

Frangoise  was  genuinely  fond  of  her  friends  and 
liked  to  please  them.  But  the  only  man  she  received 
in  intimacy  was  Pomm,  for  his  perfect  devotion  was 
above  all  suspicion.  He  was  now  an  old  man, 
though  he  was  as  nimble  and  as  interested  in  his  own 
life  as  ever.  He  had  retired  from  the  Navy  almost 
directly  after  Ajdrien's  death  and  the  second-hand 
bookstalls  were  still  his  greatest  joy — ^his  single  pas- 
sion.    Indeed  he  had  almost  entirely  filled  the  four 


THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE     75 

rooms  of  his  flat  full  of  his  purchases.  From  floor  to 
ceiling  they  rose  in  serried  lines,  not  a  space  between, 
and  not  a  single  inch  of  wall  visible.  His  bedroom 
and  his  dining-room  were  similarly  decorated  and 
even  his  desk  was  crowded  up  by  two  tall  piles  of 
books  on  either  side  of  his  writing-pad.  The  strange 
thing  was  that  though  he  continued  collecting  rare  old 
editions  and  of  musty  volumes  on  heterogeneous  sub- 
jects for  so  many  years,  he  never  read  the  books  he 
bought.  He  was  so  taken  up  with  his  long  walks 
through  the  streets  of  Paris,  looking  into  shop-win- 
dows, poring  over  the  book-boxes  of  the  Quays,  and 
attending  the  lectures  at  the  Sorbonne,  or  College  de 
France  or  various  private  institutions  of  the  same 
kind  in  which  Paris  abounds  for  the  delight  of  the 
student — that  he  never  found  time  even  to  look  into 
the  volumes  which  crowded  up  his  home.  Whenever 
Frangoise  asked  him  why  he  purchased  so  many  books 
and  never  read  them,  he  invariably  made  the  same 
answer:  "You  see  I  shall  find  them  very  useful  to 
look  into,  when  I  get  old,  and  have  to  stay  indoors  on 
rainy  days.     .      .      ." 

As  Pomm  was  already  over  sixty-five,  Frangoise 
often  wondered  when  it  would  be  that  he  would  con- 
sider it  advisable  to  remain  indoors  on  rainy  days. 

But  if  his  devotion  to  the  finding  of  frowsy  old 
books  was  touching,  his  devotion  to  the  widow  and 
the  daughter  of  his  old  friend  was  equally  so.  He 
was  an  excellent  English  scholar  and  long  ago  had 
undertaken  the  task  of  Jacqueline's  instruction  in 
English.     His  accent  left  much  to  be  desired,  but  his 


76     THE   EDUCATION   OF   JACQUELINE 

real  knowledge  of  the  language  might  have  put  many 
a  free-born  British  subject  to  shame.  He  taught  Jac- 
queline the  English  of  the  Bible,  of  Shakespeare,  and 
of  Milton,  but  he  was  powerless  to  teach  her  modern 
slang,  ignoring  its  very  existence  himself.  He  had 
met  many  Englishmen  during  his  travels,  but  had 
never  been  in  England  and  believed  that  the  English 
of  Steele  and  Addison  was  the  language  spoken  in 
the  streets  of  London  to-day. 

To  Pomm  alone  was  allowed  the  privilege  of  tak- 
ing Frangoise  Reville  to  the  theatre — a  pastime  in 
which  he  delighted  as  much  as  Frangoise  did  herself. 
Just  as  formerly  Pomm  had  arranged  to  meet  Adrien 
somewhere  in  Paris  and  go  with  him  to  some  first- 
night  performance,  so  he  now  arranged  with  Frangoise 
to  fetch  her  at  seven  o'clock,  taking  her  to  a  restau- 
rant to  dinner  and  then  on  to  a  play.  For  he  was 
the  only  cavalier  Frangoise  could  allow  herself  to  be 
seen  constantly  with  in  Paris — where  women  may 
be  adored  though  not  always  respected  and  where  a 
lady — still  young  in  years — is  for  ever  compromised 
if  she  is  seen  often  in  company  of  a  man  of  her  own 
age.  Pomm's  white  hair  and  silver  beard  were  proof 
against  all  evil  tongues,  as  well  as  his  well-known  re- 
spectful affection  for  the  widow  of  his  best  and  indeed 
only  friend.  So  that  Frangoise  never  hesitated  to  go 
everywhere  with  him. 

Frangoise  rarely  alluded  to  Adrien  in  her  con- 
versations with  Pomm,  who  was  still  so  faithful  to 
his  friend's  memory  though  he  blamed  many  of  his 
actions.    This  unreasoning  tenderness  of  the  old  man 


THE   EDUCATION   OF   JACQUELINE     ^^ 

for  Adrian's  name  touched  FranQoise  so  greatly  that 
she  never  strove  to  destroy  it.  Though  she  had  ex- 
plained to  him  that  Adrien's  insincere  charm  had  been 
the  cause  of  much  pain  to  her  she  never  told  him  of 
the  discovery  she  had  made  after  her  husband's  death 
nor  of  the  change  which  that  discovery  had  wrought 
in  her  own  feelings. 

Notwithstanding  the  distance  that  now  separated  her 
from  the  day  when  she  had  first  learned  that  she  had 
been  betrayed,  she  herself  had  not  altered  her  opinion 
of  her  dead  husband.  She  could  not  bring  herself  to 
find  any  excuse  for  him.  Her  love  had  died  in  one 
moment,  and  she  would  never  have  allowed  it  to  re- 
vive and  urge  her  by  specious  promptings  to 
find  any  excuse  for  him.  He  was  inexcusable.  His 
had  been  an  inferior  soul  altogether  and  could 
not  be  judged  from  her  present  standpoint  without 
complete  condemnation.  He  had  acted  as  the  lowest 
of  Don  Juans.  In  her  appreciation  there  was  no 
difference  between  him  and  the  most  fallen,  most  de- 
praved of  men.  He  had  professed  to  love  two  women 
simultaneously,  so  that  he  might  reap  material  bene- 
fits from  each.  Such  an  action  was  indefensible,  and 
therefore  Frangoise  strove  to  forget  that  he  had  ever 
lived  or  had  been  anything  to  her. 

She  realized  fully  that  had  she  herself  been  at  the 
time  of  her  marriage  the  creature  that  she  now  was 
and  not  the  soul-stunted  artificial  production  that  her 
education  had  made  of  her,  she  never  could  have  re- 
garded him  as  worthy  of  her  consideration  at  all. 
When  her  memory  carried  her  back  to  other  days, 


78     THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

she  wondered  how  she  could  ever  have  accepted  him 
as  a  leader,  as  a  master.  His  commonplace  ideas, 
his  narrow  judgment,  his  very  limited  intelligence — 
all  these  were  clearly  apparent  to  her  now  that  she 
had  cast  off  her  own  shackles  and  had  allowed  her 
intellect  to  expand  and  to  reach  its  own  heights.  The 
few  friends  she  now  had  around  her  were  of  so  differ- 
ent an  intellectual  calibre  that  they  had  helped  her  not 
only  to  realize  her  own  mental  self  by  contact  with 
them,  but  also  to  judge  equably  the  vulgarity  of  mind 
of  the  commonplace  bourgeois  who  had  married  her 
because  of  her  own  ignorance  and  innocence,  in  the 
hope  that  she  would  never  be  able  to  fathom  his  own 
shallowness. 

The  flat  in  which  Frangoise  and  Jacqueline  lived 
was  a  small  one  on  the  second  floor,  in  a  short  street 
near  the  Place  Wagram.  Behind  the  house  was  a 
large  space  of  ground  which  had  been  cultivated  for 
many  years  as  a  garden,  and  possessed  some  fine  trees 
and  some  small  pieces  of  lawn.  The  landlord  of  the 
house  had  divided  this  into  four  small,  even-sized 
plots  by  means  of  green  trellis  work  partitions,  and 
each  plot  of  ground  was  allotted  to  corresponding  flats 
in  the  house.  The  plot  which  belonged  to  the  second 
floor  was  one  of  the  sunniest,  so  that  Frangoise  was 
able  to  let  Jacqueline  play  there  during  the  fine  days 
of  summer  while  she  herself  sat  reading  in  a  wicker 
chair  near  the  child. 

The  flat  was  composed  of  four  rooms  and  a  kitchen. 
One  was  a  very  large  and  airy  bedroom  with  a  fine 
southern  aspect  over  the  garden,  and  this  was  the 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE     79 

room  which  Frangoise  occupied  with  her  child.  When 
she  had  arranged  to  make  over  the  remainder  of  her 
lease  to  the  newcomers  at  the  Perception  on  leaving 
Rouen,  Frangoise  had  also  decided  to  sell  most  of  the 
larger  pieces  of  furniture  that  adorned  the  house. 
But  she  had  reserved  all  the  furnishing  of  her  bed- 
room and  of  the  drawing-room,  as  well  as  part  of 
her  husband's  study,  for  herself  and  intended  bring- 
ing it  to  her  new  home.  But,  the  day  before  she  left, 
the  new  Percepteur's  wife  had  suddenly  made  her  an 
offer  for  the  rest  of  the  furniture  too,  and  Frangoise, 
only  too  eager  at  this  juncture  to  separate  herself  from 
all  past  memories,  had  gladly  let  it  go  at  a  mere  nom- 
inal sum.  She  sold  it  all — the  wide,  two-panelled 
armoire-a-glace,  the  dressing-table,  the  chairs,  and  the 
broad  bed  that  matched  the  armoire,  the  heavy  silken 
hangings  that  had  adorned  the  bed,  the  doors  and  win- 
dows— which  had  been  the  pride  and  delight  of  her 
bridal  days.  And  with  them  she  had  sold  Adrien's 
writing-desk  in  which  she  had  found  the  letters  of 
Madame  Ducastel.  All  had  gone — and  Frangoise  had 
wished  at  the  time  that  all  the  memories  they  repre- 
sented to  her  could  have  departed  with  them.  .  .  . 
Frangoise's  new  room  was  furnished  very  simply 
and  had  draperies  of  white  spotted  muslin  at  the  bed 
and  the  two  windows.  The  two  doors  of  the  room — 
one  of  which  had  access  to  the  small  hall  and  the  other 
which  led  to  the  salon  beyond — were  uncovered  and 
painted  a  creamy  white.  Her  small  and  narrow  bed 
was  merely  a  spring  mattress  supported  by  four  short 
legs  set  on  rollers.    At  the  head  and  foot  of  this,  two 


8o     THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

boards  were  nailed,  forming  a  head  and  a  foot  rest. 
These  boards  were  covered  with  flowery  cretonne  in 
a  charming  Louis  XVI.  design,  and  a  covering  of 
the  same  cretonne  formed  the  bedspread.  Over  this 
improvised  bed,  a  large  brass  ring  was  fixed  to  the 
ceiling,  and  through  this  the  simple  curtains  of 
frilled  muslin  were  drawn  and  fell  across  the  top  and 
bottom  of  the  bed.  Jacqueline's  small  white-painted 
cot  which  was  set  close  to  her  mother's  bed  was 
entirely  adorned  with  white,  and  had  curtains  of 
spotless  muslin  treated  in  the  same  way.  The  walls 
were  papered  with  a  very  light  blue  paper  striped  with 
a  slightly  darker  tone.  All  the  furniture — armoire, 
dressing-table  and  chairs — was  of  plain  white-painted 
wood,  and  there  was  a  wide  lounge  chair  of  wicker- 
work  made  comfortable  with  many  fancy  cushions, 
where  Frangoise  often  sat  and  read  at  night  while 
Jacqueline  slept.  For  Frangoise  was  essentially  a 
French  mother,  even  if  she  was  determined  to  give  a 
free  and  independent  education  to  her  daughter.  She 
humoured  and  spoilt  her  child  in  many  ways,  and  one 
of  the  ways  of  Jacqueline  was  that  she  insisted  upon 
the  presence  of  her  mother  when  she  went  to  sleep. 

Many  of  Frangoise's  methods  of  education  were 
still  old-fashioned,  though  she  strove  by  every  means 
to  be  a  modern  educationist.  Thus  she  always  con- 
sulted the  child  before  making  any  decision  concern- 
ing her. 

"  Do  you  want  to  go  out  now,  cherie?  "  "  Do  you 
want  to  eat  ?  "  "  Do  you  want  to  sleep  ?  "  were  ques- 
tions she  was  for  ever  addressing  to  Jacqueline.    She 


THE   EDUCATION   OF   JACQUELINE     8i 

believed  that  by  thus  educating  her  child  to  follow 
her  own  individual  tastes,  she  was  allowing  her  to 
develop  rightly  along  her  own  lines.  As  the  little 
girl  was  consulted  in  every  way,  by  degrees  it  was 
Jacqueline,  and  Jacqueline  alone,  who  ruled  the 
household.  Even  old  Clemence — who  had  been  in 
Frangoise's  service  before  the  child's  birth,  though 
she  managed  the  material  part  of  the  household  en- 
tirely and  would  hardly  allow  her  mistress  to  give  her 
an  order — was  the  slave  of  Jacqueline.  Like  most 
French  servants  she  always  did  what  the  child  wished 
because,  as  she  said :  "  The  little  one  is  only  a  bebe; 
she  does  not  know  any  better.  She  must  be  hu- 
moured." 

So  between  those  two  adoring  women,  Jacqueline 
was  allowed  to  go  to  bed  when  she  liked,  to  eat 
what  she  liked,  and  to  do  entirely  as  she  liked  in 
every  way,  with  the  result  that,  although  she  was  a 
most  intelligent  and  interesting  child,  strangers  some- 
times found  her  inclined  to  be  trying. 

Although  Frangoise  had  determined  to  allow  her 
daughter  the  free  development  of  all  her  natural  ten- 
dencies, she  did  not  at  first  realise  that  an  education 
cannot  be  achieved  without  a  deft  mingling  of  re- 
pression, and  that  if  the  good  qualities  of  a  child  must 
be  allowed  to  develop,  the  bad  ones  must  be  sternly 
reproved.  Like  many  parents,  she  thought  that  be- 
cause Nature  had  made  her  a  mother.  Nature  had  also 
by  that  same  virtue  made  her  an  educationist.  .  .  ". 
However,  as  Jacqueline's  education  proceeded,  Fran- 
Qoise  found  that  she  had  attempted  a  task  which  was 


g2     THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

far  more  difficult  than  she  had  at  first  supposed  it  to 
be.  But  if  it  be  true,  as  some  wise  savants  declare, 
that  heredity  is  but  an  imitation  by  the  child  of  the 
parents'  idiosyncrasies,  then  perhaps  she  was  well  in- 
spired in  allowing  Jacqueline  the  full  development  of 
all  her  more  dominating  personal  instincts,  since  her 
own  self-repression  was  the  very  quality  she  most 
wished  to  avoid  imparting  to  her  daughter.  For  Jac- 
queline was  so  much  in  her  mother's  society  that  she 
could  not  have  failed  to  imitate  her  instinctive  self- 
abnegation  unconsciously,  had  not  Frangoise  herself, 
by  developing  in  her  daughter  habits  of  almost  excess- 
ive self-assertion,  thus  given  her  the  best  safeguard 
against  the  annihilation  of  her  personality. 

After  she  had  passed  her  fourteenth  birthday,  Jac- 
queline was  for  her  age  a  much-developed  individual- 
ity. She  chose  her  own  clothes,  ordered  her  own 
meals,  and  even  decided  what  her  studies  should  be. 
Luckily  for  her,  she  was  a  comparatively  reasonable 
creature,  and  in  most  things  showed  a  well-balanced 
mind,  which  she  had  probably  inherited  from  her 
mother's  forebears.  For  although  she  was  the  living 
image  of  her  father,  she  had  so  far  shown  but  few 
of  his  characteristics.  Of  these  her  love  of  coquetry 
and  her  winning  charm  were  the  strongest 


CHAPTER   V 

One  bright  afternoon  about  two  o'clock,  while  Jac- 
queline was  at  the  Lycee,  Frangoise  was  alone  in  the 
salon  of  her  flat,  embroidering  some  strips  of  batiste 
that  were  destined  to  adorn  a  blouse  for  Jacqueline. 
Jacqueline  herself  could  not  embroider.  She  was  of 
the  generation  that  learns  Latin  and  mathematics  and 
disdains  the  art  of  the  needle.  But  as  she  was  a  very 
fastidious  young  person  and  liked  beautiful  raiment, 
she  was  delighted  that  her  mother  could  do  fine 
stitching  to  trim  her  clothes  while  she  herself  attended 
lectures  on  Higher  Education. 

As  Frangoise  was  about  to  begin  on  a  fifth  strip  of 
batiste,  the  front  bell  rang.  Clemence,  before  open- 
ing the  hall  door,  came  hurriedly  into  the  salon,  tying 
on  a  white  apron  over  her  blue  linen  one.  She  was 
concocting  some  wonderful  entremets  to  please  Jac- 
queline at  dinner  time  and  hated  being  disturbed  to 
answer  bells  when  engaged  upon  so  delicate  a  task. 
Almost  angrily,  though  in  a  subdued  whisper,  she 
asked  her  mistress: 

"Madame  regoit-ellef" 

"  Certainly,  Clemence." 

And  Clemence  made  for  the  hall  door  like  a  shot 
from  a  gun.  She  found  a  servant-girl  neatly  gowned 
in  black  with  a  letter  to  deliver  to  Madame  Reville, 
marked  "  Personnelle  "  and  "  Urgent." 

Frangoise  held  the  missive  in  her  hand  one  moment. 
83 


84     THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

The  handwriting,  weak  and  straggling,  reminded  her 
of  the  fateful  letter  she  had  also  received  from  Cle- 
mence's  hand  one  evening  long  ago.  She  broke  open 
the  seal  and  read: 


"  Madame, 

"  I  have  no  claim  to  your  pity,  but  I  am  dying  and 
would  much  like  to  see  you.  I  am  almost  your  neigh- 
bour. Will  you  come  to  me?  Do  not  refuse  my  re- 
quest.   It  is  perhaps  the  last  I  shall  make  on  earth." 

The  letter  was  signed  in  bolder  writing,  as  if  the 
writer  had  made  an  effort  to  write  her  name  quite 
clearly : 

"Cecile  Ducastel." 

Frangoise  felt  a  pang  at  her  heart.  After  all  these 
years,  what  could  Madame  Ducastel  have  to  say  to 
her?  She  had  learnt  through  Pomm — who  himself 
had  read  the  announcement  in  a  paper — of  the  death 
of  Monsieur  Ducastel,  which  had  taken  place  about 
five  years  before.  He  had  left  Cecile  only  a  small 
portion  of  his  wealth.  She  was  his  second  wife,  and 
he  had  four  children  by  his  first  marriage  who  had 
inherited  the  greater  part  of  his  fortune.  Madame 
Ducastel  had  left  the  sumptuous  abode  where  Fran- 
goise  had  once  visited  her,  and  had  taken  a  flat  in  a 
street  not  far  from  Madame  Reville.  She  had  fur- 
nished it  well  with  some  of  the  furniture  of  her  former 
home. 

Frangoise  and  Madame  Ducastel  had  never  met 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE     85 

since  the  day  of  their  first  and  only  interview.  But 
Frangoise  did  not  hesitate  long  now.  She  sat  down  to 
her  writing-table  and  wrote  a  few  lines  to  Madame 
Ducastel,  telling  her  that  she  would  be  !with  her 
shortly,  and  sent  the  black-robed  maid  back  with  the 
note. 

Then  she  went  and  dressed  herself  to  go  out. 

After  she  had  been  kept  waiting  for  several  min- 
utes in  a  small  salon  which  showed  traces  of  the  lack 
of  a  mistress's  superintendence  and  proved  to  Fran- 
goise  that  Madame  Ducastel's  illness  must  have  lasted 
some  time,  she  was  shown  into  Cecile's  bedroom. 

At  first  Frangoise  did  not  even  recognize  the  woman 
in  the  wide  bed.  When  she  had  first  seen  her, 
Madame  Ducastel  in  the  full  maturity  of  her  years 
had  been  still  a  handsome  and  attractive  woman. 
Though  she  was  then  past  forty-five,  she  had  evi- 
dently made  a  great  resistance  against  the  growing 
years,  for  her  entire  person,  though  no  longer  en- 
dowed with  the  freshness  of  youth,  had  been  still  ex- 
tremely well-preserved.     But  now! 

She  lay  back  on  her  white  pillows — whiter  indeed 
than  they.  Her  once  golden  hair,  so  well  ondulee  and 
carefully-dressed,  was  now  greyish-white,  and  was 
pushed  back  from  her  forehead  in  long  straight  wisps 
w^ithout  a  care  for  appearances.  One  felt  that  she 
had  already  travelled  far  beyond  the  point  where  a 
woman,  even  though  she  may  be  old,  may  still  wish 
to  charm.  The  skin  of  her  face,  without  powder  or 
rouge,  was  ashen-grey,  and  the  network  of  wrinkles 
around  the  tired  blue  eyes  with  their  creased  lids 


86     THE  EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE 

transformed  the  once  triumphant  beauty  into  an  aged 
woman. 

Her  palHd  lips  moved  tremulously  as  she  saw  Fran- 
Qoise's  eyes,  almost  against  her  will,  taking  note  of 
the  ravages  of  time,  thus  betraying  the  fact  that  she 
was  almost  unrecognisable.  She  held  out  her  slim, 
wasted  hand. 

"  I  am  altered,  am  I  not  ?  Oh,  it  is  not  worth 
while  denying  it!  I  am  past  all  vanity,  all  coquetry. 
I  have  no  longer  any  strength — ^any  desire  to  live. 
.  .  .  But  death  is  not  only  the  lover  of  beauty 
and  of  youth," 

And  then  as  there  was  a  pause,  during  which  Fran- 
Qoise  stroked  the  thin  hand  with  tender  reassuring 
touch,  Cecile  went  on: 

"  Thank  you  so  much  for  coming.  How  good  you 
are!  ...  I  have  often  thought  of  you — often — 
and  wondered  .  .  .  wondered  .  .  ."  She 
broke  off,  as  if  afraid  of  expressing  her  thoughts. 

And  Frangoise  herself  was  silent  and  waited,  mean- 
while insistently  and  gently  caressing  the  fragile  hand 
she  still  held. 

"When  a  woman  is  dying,  she  sees  all  the  things 
of  life  differently — from  another  plane,  as  it  were, 
and  in  their  true  relation  to  one  another.  .  .  ." 
pursued  Cecile  in  her  weary  voice.  .  .  .  "I 
want  to  confess  to  you — and  to  receive  your  pardon 
if  you  can  give  it  me.  For  I  need  it.  I 
have  not  been  a  good  woman,  perhaps  .  .  . 
but  I  have  suffered — suffered — terribly  ...  so 
terribly ! "     And   the   tired   lids    fell   again,    closing 


THE   EDUCATION   OF   JACQUELINE     87 

the  weary,  sorrowful  eyes,  and  the  broken  voice  sank 
almost  to  a  whisper. 

"I  know  .  .  ."  breathed  Frangoise  softly,  as 
she  looked  compassionately  at  the  pale  face  on  the 
pillows. 

Cecile  Ducastel  opened  her  eyes  once  more  and 
gazed  at  Frangoise.  There  was  neither  human  fear 
nor  jealousy  nor  curiosity  in  the  glance.  It  was  the 
look  of  a  woman  already  beyond  earthly  things.  She 
understood  what  was  in  Frangoise's  mind. 

"  Oh !  you  know  .  .  .  then  ?  "  And  then,  af- 
ter another  pause — "  I  have  often  wondered  whether 
you  did." 

"Yes  "^softly—"  Yes     .     .     .     I  know  all." 

Silence  fell  again  between  them.  The  dying  woman 
seemed  exhausted,  but  she  rallied  her  courage  to  ask 
the  next  question,  as  if  it  touched  a  still  vital  spot 
in  her  heart. 

"When  did  you  know?"  Cecile  spoke  as  if  a  sud- 
den flame  of  life  had  re-arisen  in  her  soul  and  had 
awakened  her  to  memory  of  self  and  of  her  once  great 
passion. 

"  I  learned  the  whole  story  a  month  after  his  death 
when  you  sent  that  letter  to  the  Perception.  I  read 
all  your  other  letters  afterwards — though  he  had 
written  injunctions  on  them  that  they  were  to  be 
burnt  in  the  event  of  his  death.  I  thought  that  I  had 
the  right  to  know  all  them." 

Cecile  made  no  sound  for  a  few  moments.  Then 
the  faint  voice  spoke  again. 

"  I  always  wondered  what  had  become  of  that  last 


88     THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

letter  I  wrote.  I  tried  to  trace  through  the  post 
whether  it  had  been  delivered  or  not.  ...  I 
never  found  out." 

"  It  was  marked  personnelle,  so  the  new  Percepteur 
sent  it  on  to  our  private  address." 

"  So  you  read  all  the  other  letters  ?  " 

"Yes." 

**  I  am  glad — > — '*  and  Cecile*s  sad  voice  seemed  a 
little  stronger  now — "  I  am  glad  that  you  did,  because 
you  would  understand  better  then  .  .  ."  And  she 
added  somewhat  anxiously:  "You  did  understand — 
didn't  you?" 

"  Yes — I  understood." 

Cecile's  chill  fingers  clung  almost  affectionately  to 
those  of  Frangoise.  She  closed  her  eyes  again.  And 
then  suddenly  a  new  thought  thrust  itself  into  her 
fading  brain. 

"When  you  came  to  see  me  in  the  Place  Males- 
herbes  .  .  .  ten  years  ago  .  .  .  was  it 
not?     .     .     .     did  you  know  then?" 

"  Yes— I  knew  then." 

"Yet  you  did  not  reproach  me!  .  .  .  you 
said  nothing!  " 

"  What  was  there  to  say  ?  I  pitied  you — ^you  had 
loved  him  deeply — probably  far  more  than  I  had 
.  and  you  were  so  unhappy.  What  would 
have  been  the  use  of  reproaches  ?  " 

"  Ah,  you  understood.  And  to  understand  sorrow 
is  to  forgive    .     .     ,    everything     .     .     . " 

Frangoise  made  no  reply.  Cecile's  eyelids  fell  again 
and  FranQoise,  standing  by  the  side  of  the  bed  hold- 


THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE     89 

ing  her  hand,  looked  upon  the  half-conscious  woman 
with  pitiful  sweetness.  Then  slowly — very  slowly — 
from  beneath  the  closed  lids  two  chill  tears  fell  and 
coursed  down  the  wrinkled  cheeks  .  .  .  tears  of 
the  dying,  arising  from  an  almost  frozen  source. 

Frangoise  remained  silent  still,  but  she  lifted  a 
small  cambric  handkerchief  from  the  table  near  the 
bed,  and  then  very  gently  and  with  infinite  pity  she 
wiped  away  the  tears  of  the  dying  woman. 

Cecile,  opening  her  eyes  wide  once  more,  looked 
long  and  deeply  at  Frangoise,  and  at  last  she  saw  with 
entire  clearness  the  heart  of  the  woman  revealed. 

"  You  are  a  great  and  noble  woman,  Frangoise  Re- 
ville — I  wish  I  had  known  you  more.  .  .  .  You 
have  a  rare  and  generous  soul.  Women  like  you  make 
the  world  a  better  abiding-place  .  .  ."  And  then, 
after  a  moment's  pause,  she  added  again — for  it  was 
evident  that  her  thoughts  reverted  constantly  to  the 
memory  of  the  man  she  had  loved.  .  .,  .  "  Did 
you  love  him  too?" 

"  Perhaps  I  did,"  replied  Frangoise  hesitatingly. 
"  Perhaps  I  did  .  .  .  but  only  with  the  unreas- 
oning love  of  a  very  young  girl.  It  could  not  have 
been  a  great  love — since  it  died  so  easily. 
For  when  I  learnt  what  you  had  been  to  him — you, 
who  had  loved  him  knowing  his  baseness — ^his  trivial, 
mean  baseness — my  love  for  him  died  immediately. 
It  was  so  small  a  thing  compared  to  yours !  ;.  1..  . 
I  understood  that!" 

"Dear  Adrien!"  murmured  the  dying  woman 
softly,  "dear  Adrien    .     .     ."  as  if  claiming  indul- 


90     THE   EDUCATION   OF   JACQUELINE 

gence  for  his  faults  even  now.  Then  suddenly  re- 
membering Frangoise's  rights,  she  tried  to  explain  to 
Adrien's  widow  the  unlawful  love  she  had  felt  for 
him. 

"  He  was  so  young,  so  lonely,  when  I  first  knew 
him.  .  .  .  He  had  never  known  his  mother — 
and  his  father  had  never  been  greatly  attached  to  him. 
He  had  only  his  one  friend — Pomm — in  the  world, 
and  Pomm  was  so  often  far  away.  .  .  .  He 
wanted  a  woman's  loving  care  and  tenderness.  .  .  . 
I  was  so  much  older  than  he  was.  ...  I  had 
never  had  a  child,  and  I  had  never  loved  my  husband, 
though  I  had  tried  to.  Adrien  seemed  to  me  to  be 
everything  I  had  missed  in  life.  .  .  .  I  wanted 
to  make  someone  happy — to  get  away  from  myself 
and  from  my  own  misery.  So  I  gave  him  my  whole 
life — all  my  thoughts — my  entire  devotion.  I  helped 
him  to  make  a  success  of  his  life — I  wanted  his  hap- 
piness above  all  things,  even  at  the  expense  of  my 
own.  I  rejoiced  in  the  thought  that  I  was  useful — 
even  necessary — ^to  him." 

"  Yet  you  knew  his  selfishness — ^his  personal  in- 
feriority?" 

"  Yes,  but  I  loved  him  maternally,  perhaps  even  he- 
roically. When  a  woman  is  no  longer  very  young, 
what  she  loves  in  a  man  is  her  own  dreams  for  his 
future,  and  above  all  his  need  of  her.  The  more  ex- 
perienced women  love  like  that.  The  very  young  do 
not.  They  expect  more  for  themselves  and  are  less 
generous.  .  .  .  Perhaps  you  have  found  that 
out  since?" 


THE    EDUCATION   OF   JACQUELINE     91 

"No,  after  Adrien's  death  I  put  all  thoughts  of 
love  out  of  my  life  for  ever." 

"Then,  my  dear,  you  have  never  known  life — 
for  human  love  is  human  life." 

"  Perhaps  not — but  I  have  known  maternal  love — 
which  is  almost  love  Divine." 

"Ah,  yes! — you  are  right.  .  ,  .  The  love  I 
had  for  Adrian  was  almost  that." 

"  But,  caring  for  him  as  you  did  .  .  .  how 
could  you  advise  him  to  marry  me?"  asked  Fran^oise 
gently. 

"  Ah !  my  dear,  I  deluded  myself  with  the  hope,  as 
do  so  many  women  who  have  sacrificed  themselves  as 
I  did — that  the  nobler  part  of  his  love  would  always 
be  mine." 

"And  I,"  said  Fran^oise  sadly,  "I  too  thought 
that!  Before  I  knew  about  you,  I  supposed  that  he 
had  perhaps  had  other  or  lesser  loves  in  his  life  be- 
fore he  had  met  me.  But  I  believed  that  I — ^his  wife — 
held  the  nobler  part  of  his  faith." 

Over  Cecile's  wan  face  a  sad  smile  flitted.  It  was 
the  smile  of  the  woman  who  had  learnt  to  see  where 
the  shallows  of  life  he. 

"  Every   woman   who  herself  loves  ideally  thinks 

that  she  holds  the  nobler  part  of  her  lover's  love. 

.     We   both    thought   the   same   of   Adrien. 

Now  we  both  know  that  there  was  no  nobler  spirit 

in  him.      .      .      ." 

Frangoise  bent  her  head  and  made  no  reply.  The 
sick  woman's  breath  came  more  laboriously.  Fran- 
Qoise  hung  wistfully  over  her,  wishing  that  her  last 


92     THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

thoughts  would  not  dwell  on  such  sad  reminiscences. 
But  Cecile's  spiritless  voice  rose  once  more  in  tones 
of  exceeding  pity. 

"Poor  Frangoise!" 

But  Frangoise's  face  glowed  with  an  irradiating 
smile. 

"  No,  I  was  not  poor.  .  .  .  You  see,  I  had  the 
child.    The  child  brought  me  comfort." 

"  Yes,  but  you  were  young  ...  so  young ! " 
said  Cecile  with  the  insistance  of  a  woman  for  whom 
love  and  passion  have  been  the  great  things  of  life, 
and  who  values  them  above  all  other  human  joys. 
.  .  "You  might  have  sought  and  found  love 
once  more.  I  had  already  come  to  the  end  of  my 
life  as  a  woman  who  can  charm  and  please  when  I 
lost  my  lover.  :.  ;.i  i.  But  you — ^you  are  so 
young!" 

"  When  I  discovered  that  Adrien  had  never  cared 
for  me  then  all  idea  of  love  for  ever  died  in  my  heart. 
I  gladly  resigned  myself  to  a  loveless  life — for  I  had 
Jacqueline,  my  daughter.  .  .  .  I  willingly  sac- 
rificed all  thoughts  of  passion  and  of  marriage  to 
her." 

"  Ah,  yes !  .  .  .  That  is  true — ^you  had  the  child. 
That  was  your  comfort     .      .      .     I  had  nothing." 

Again  for  many  moments  no  word  was  spoken  be- 
tween the  two  women — the  living  and  the  dying — • 
who  had  both  loved  the  same  man,  and  who  now  held 
one  another's  hands  in  true  sympathy.  The  long 
shadows  of  the  wintry  afternoon  were  invading  the 
room,  chasing  out  the  light  of  the  sun  and  covering 
all  things  with  its  grey,  misty  shroud. 


THE   EDUCATION   OF   JACQUELINE     93 

Then  Cecile  spoke  again — more  falteringly — for 
her  strength  was  decreasing  rapidly. 

"  I  must  tell  you  another  reason  why  I  sent  for 
you  to-day.  ...  I  have  no  children — ^no  rela- 
tions of  my  own,  and  I  have  quarrelled  with  Monsieur 
Ducastel's  family.  I  am  quite  alone  in  the  world.  I 
want  you  to  allow  me  to  leave  the  little  fortune  I  still 
possess    to    your    daughter — to    Adrien's    daughter. 

Don't  speak  yet "  as  Frangoise  made 

an  instinctive  gesture  of  refusal.  ..."  Don't 
say  *  No '  yet.  .  .  .  Understand  this — ^you  who 
understand  all  things  of  the  human  heart  so  well.  To 
me  it  will  seem  some  small  reparation,  and  I  shall  die 
more  easily.  I  think  that  I  could  be  comparatively 
happy  now,  if  I  could  believe  that  my  small  fortune 
could  be  of  use  to  her    .    .    .    to  his  child.    .    .    ." 

"But,  madame " 

"Please,  dear,  kind  and  generous  woman — do  not 
refuse  my  last  request!  Be  charitable  to  the  end. 
.  Let  her  accept  from  me  what  may  perhaps 
be  her  independence.  ...  I  know  your  own  cir- 
cumstances. Your  dowry  was  a  comparatively  large 
one  for  the  provinces,  but  I  am  sure  that  you  have 
found  it  difficult  to  live  comfortably  and  educate  your 
daughter  on  your  income.  I  know  that  Adrien  left 
nothing.  .  .  .  Please  let  me  do  this. 
Be  as  merciful  as  you  have  ever  been.  Grant  me  this 
last  desire.  Let  me  leave  what  I  have  to  her.  .  .  . 
In  a  few  days — perhaps  in  a  few  hours — I  shall  be 
dead.     ...     Do  not  refuse  my  last  request!" 

Frangoise  was  battling  against  her  tears,  but  she 
was  vanquished.     She  answered  gently: 


94     THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

"  I  will  not  refuse.    It  shall  be  as  you  wish." 

The  dying  woman  pressed  her  hand  and  gave  a 
small  sigh  of  satisfaction.  Then  Fran^oise,  drying 
her  eyes  and  speaking  in  a  tender  voice,  urged : 

"Now  you  must  rest.  Is  there  anything  I  can  do 
for  you  ?  " 

"Don't    leave    me,"     pleaded    Cecile.     .      . 
"  Don't  leave  me.    Stay  with  me  to  the  end.    It's  so 
terrible  to  die  alone.     .     >     .     There  is  no  one  to 
come  to  me — ^no  relation — ^no  friend !  " 

"  I  will  not  leave  you.  I  will  stay  with  you,  since 
you  wish  it.    Is  there  anything  you  want  ?  " 

"Nothing  now     .     ;.     .     only  your  forgiveness." 

Frangoise  bent  forward  and  kissed  Cecile  on  the 
brow. 

"  Do  not  let  us  speak  of  forgiveness.  ..  .  .  There 
can  be  no  such  word  between  us." 

Cecile  pressed  Madame  Reville's  hand  once  more. 

Frangoise  sent  a  note  round  to  Clemence,  telling 
her  not  to  expect  her  home  that  evening  and  to  take 
special  care  of  Jacqueline,  who  had  never  slept  a  single 
night  away  from  her  mother  since  her  babyhood. 

The  following  day  she  returned  home  for  a  few 
hours  to  put  some  things  together  and  to  explain  her 
absence  to  Jacqueline.  During  Frangoise's  absence 
from  her  bedside,  Madame  Ducastel  was  able  to  see 
her  lawyer  and  give  him  her  last  instructions  concern- 
ing the  disposition  of  her  property. 

Jacqueline  was  both  astonished  and  dismayed  to 
hear  that  her  mother  was  to  leave  her  again,  and  as 
she  3was  ignorant  of  Madame  Ducastel's  very  exist- 


THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE     95 

ence,  Frangoise  told  her  that  she  had  suddenly  been 
called  to  the  deathbed  of  an  old  school  friend  from 
whom  she  had  not  heard  for  many  years,  and  gave 
her  no  further  explanation.  Jacqueline  then  consented 
to  remain  alone  with  Clemence,  and  Frangoise  went 
back  to  tend  her  husband's  mistress  till  the  end. 

A  week  later  Cecile  Ducastel  died  in  Frangoise's 
arms.  Frangoise  and  Jacqueline  were  the  only  mourn- 
ers to  follow  her  coffin  to  its  last  resting-place. 


CHAPTER  VI  y 

By  the  time  that  Jacqueline  was  a  tall  girl,  witH  half- 
long  skirts  and  a  blond  pigtail  doubled  up  twice  and 
held  with  a  wide  velvet  bow,  Frangoise  had  gathered 
around  her  a  circle  of  charming  and  interesting  ac- 
quaintances; and  Jacqueline,  who  from  the  age  of 
twelve  had  served  tea  on  her  mother's  at-home  days, 
had  become  inured  to  society  and  social  conversation 
at  an  early  age.  She  was  a  most  precocious  and  in- 
telligent girl,  and  as  her  studies  at  the  Lycee  pro- 
gressed and  she  became  possessed  of  more  knowledge, 
it  was  quite  natural  that,  brought  up  as  she  had  been, 
she  should  have  an  exaggerated  idea  of  her  own  im- 
portance. Frangoise  of  course  realized  that  this  self- 
sufficiency  was  the  weak  point  in  the  moral  armour 
she  had  wished  to  give  her  child.  But  she  condoned 
these  faults  in  Jacqueline  because  of  the  opposite 
virtues  they  implied. 

On  a  toujours  les  'defauts  de  ses  qualites.  If  Jac- 
queline was  self-assertive,  headstrong  and  wilful,  she 
was  frank,  self-reliant  and  proud  too.  And  as  she 
was  accustomed  to  lead  at  home,  she  became  also  ac- 
customed to  lead  at  the  Lycee.  Her  young  compan- 
ions were  all  subservient  to  her.  She  appeared  to 
them  as  an  infallible  oracle;  they  relied  upon  her 
judgment,  and,  admiring  her  greatly,  always  sought 
her  advice.     This  adulation  on  all  sides  only  served 

96 


THE   EDUCATION  OF   JACQUELINE     97 

to  increase  her  opinion  of  her  own  value,  and  though 
she  was  never  offensively  conceited  in  manner,  yet  she 
was  convinced  that  she  was  an  exceptional  girl.  In 
a  sense  she  judged  rightly.  She  had  far  more  social 
and  moral  experience,  far  more  savoir-faire,  than 
most  maidens  of  her  age.  She  had  always  been  al- 
lowed so  much  liberty  by  her  mother  that  she  never 
could  have  supported  the  restrictions  imposed  upon 
her  young  comrades  by  their  parents  or  guardians, 
neither  could  she  have  lent  herself  to  the  spirit  of 
ruse  which  was  taught  them,  and  only  too  well  as- 
similated. As  she  did  not  hesitate  to  declare  her  in- 
dependent ideas,  she  was  often  an  element  of  revolt 
among  her  schoolmates,  and  many  parents  warned 
their  daughters  to  avoid  her  companionship. 

But  these  things  mattered  little  to  Jacqueline.  She 
had  her  own  life,  her  own  ambitions,  and  her  own 
ideals,  which  were  different  from  those  of  most  girls 
of  her  age.  Her  companions  in  their  own  homes 
were  mostly  educated  on  the  principles  which  had 
formed  the  minds  and  brains  of  their  own  mothers — • 
women  of  the  same  generation  as  Madame  Reville — • 
although  the  system  of  actual  learning  was  improved 
upon  by  the  curriculum  at  the  Lycee.  Most  mothers 
of  Fran^oise's  generation  wished  their  daughters  to 
acquire  superior  knowledge,  yet  they  desired  them 
to  conform  to  that  artificial  ideal  of  maidenhood 
which  preserves  the  girl,  in  total  ignorance  of 
life  until  her  marriage.  With  a  broader,  wider 
culture,  that  ideal  was  forcibly  disappearing  in  reality ; 
but  outwardly  their  parents  wished  the  girls  to  appear 


98     THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

as  Ignorant  and  innocent  as  ever — for  such  was  the 
kind  of  education  that  still  pleased  the  marrying  man* 

A  deeper  knowledge  being  incompatible  with  so  re- 
stricted an  ideal,  the  presumed  ignorance  of  the  Lycee 
trained  girls  was  but  an  artificial  production,  hypo- 
critically achieved  by  the  advice  of  wily  mothers.  The 
affected  innocence  was  only  assumed  when  in  the 
presence  of  men,  and  all  these  feigned  qualities  were 
but  as  a  mark  easily  thrown  aside  when  the  girls  were 
in  the  company  of  other  girls.  Jacqueline,  for  all  her 
impulsive  outspokenness,  her  wilful  personality,  and 
even  her  self-conceit,  was  yet  a  far  more  healthy 
product  than  her  companions,  for  at  least  she  said 
what  she  thought  and  thought  what  she  said.  Indeed, 
the  inevitable  duplicity  of  her  companions  appalled 
her,  and  debarred  her  from  any  real  friendship  among 
her  school  companions.  She  was  on  terms  of  good 
comradeship  with  one  and  all,  but  on  terms  of  in- 
timacy with  none.  This  was  not  the  result  of  her 
mother's  advice,  but  of  an  instinctive  selection  on  the 
part  of  the  child.  And  Frangoise,  realising  what  a 
broader  education  had  done  for  her  daughter  on  this 
behalf,  rejoiced  in  the  result  attained. 

Yet  there  were  times  when  she  fell  a  prey  to  doubt, 
and  asked  herself  whether  she  had  done  right  in  al- 
lowing the  headstrong  girl  the  upperhand.  These 
were  the  days  when  she  was  appalled  at  her  daughter's 
irrepressible  spirit  of  domination.  In  these  moments 
of  doubt  she  tried  to  remonstrate  with  Jacqueline. 
But  Jacqueline  was  not  only  tenacious,  but  believed 
herself  to  be  impeccable,  like  all  young  and  inexperi- 


THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE     99 

enced  creatures  of  her  age — and  was  the  more  diffi- 
cult to  manage. 

One  day  she  silenced  her  mother  for  ever  on  this 
subject  by  remarking: 

"  Maman  cherie,  it  is  useless  to  oppose  your  supe- 
rior experience  to  mine.  .  ..  ,.  I  am  in  reality 
nearly  thirty  years  older  than  you,  for  all  children  of 
my  generation  are  more  experienced  than  their  par- 
ents." 

"  How's  that    »    .    .    ? "  began  Frangoise* 

But  Jacqueline  proceeded  to  explain  her  theories 
without  leaving  her  mother  time  to  finish  her  sen- 
tence. 

"  You  see,  maman  'cherie,  that  as  I  was  born  thirty 
years  after  you,  I  am  in  reality  thirty  years  older  than 
you.  For  I  came  into  a  world  that  had  progressed 
thirty  years  since  your  own  birth,  and  therefore  had 
thirty  years'  more  experience  itself.  To  those  more 
perfected  years  I  have  added  my  own  twenty  years 
of  acquired  knowledge  and  learning,  such'  as 
was  never  given  to  you,  and  this  has  given  me  a  sys- 
tem of  opinions  and  an  erudition  which  you  can  never 
acquire  now.  .:  ^.i  ;.•  Don't  you  see,  maman,  what 
I  mean?'* 

But  Frangoise  was  neither  appalled  nor  silenced. 

"I  understand  what  you  mean  to  infer,  my  dear. 
But  I  also  understand  something  which  all  your  brain 
culture  cannot  teach  you.  And  that  is,  alas !  that  now, 
nothing  can  modify  your  personality  from  outside. 
You  will  learn  the  only  real  lesson  of  life,  my  dar- 
ling, from  within  your  own  heart — for  it  can  only  be 


loo     THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE 

taught  you  by  your  individual  suffering.  I  can  neither 
guide  you  nor  guard  you  now." 

At  the  age  of  eighteen,  Jacqueline  was  a  tall,  slim 
creature  with  a  bright  and  healthy  complexion,  glossy 
hair,  and  a  fine,  lissom,  pliable  figure.  And  though 
she  was  far  ahead  of  her  companions  in  her  reason- 
ings and  in  her  practical  knowledge  of  life,  her  ignor- 
ance concerning  the  passions  and  the  attractions  of 
her  sex  was  so  far  absolutely  complete. 

She  had  already  obtained  both  her  diplomas,  bril- 
liantly, the  Brevet  Simple  and  the  Brevet  Superieur, 
and  now  the  time  had  come  for  her  to  make  a  choice 
and  specialize  if  she  wished  to  compete  for  a  degree 
at  the  Sorbonne. 

She  told  her  mother  one  day  that  she  had  decided 
to  attend  the  Literature  lectures  at  the  University,  and 
to  prepare  her  Licence  es  lettres,  for  she  was  par- 
ticularly fond  of  the  subject  and  her  literary  taste 
was  already  greatly  formed. 

"  You  see,  maman  cherie,"  she  said,  "  I  have  no 
particular  taste  or  gift  for  art  of  any  kind,  though  I 
might  perhaps  by  dint  of  hard  work  transform  myself 
into  a  mediocre  pianist,  or  a  second-rate  painter.  But 
I  prefer  to  aim  at  something  I  can  do  really  well. 
As  you  have  always  wished  me  to  obtain  some  di- 
ploma or  degree  which  can  enable  me  to  follow  some 
career  later  on,  if  necessary,  and  in  case  I  do  not 
marry,  I  think  I  could  with  some  effort  make  a  good 
professor  of  Belles  Lettres.  Or  I  might  devote  my- 
self to  writing  some  day.    So  I  shall  go  in  for  that." 

"  Do  as  you  like,  of  course,  ma  cherie." 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE     loi 

"  Don't  I  always  ? "  said  Jacqueline,  laughing,  as 
she  rose  and  went  off  into  her  own  bedroom  to  dress 
to  go  out.  For  the  fourth  room  of  the  small  flat  had 
now  been  turned  into  a  bedroom  for  Jacqueline.  It 
had  been  repapered  and  painted  and  newly  furnished 
for  her,  and  old  Clemence — though  Fran^oise  had 
found  it  useful  to  have  her  near  at  night-time  during 
Jacqueline's  early  childhood — had  now  been  relegated 
to  her  room  in  the  servants'  quarters  on  the  sixth 
floor  of  the  house. 

Jacqueline  soon  emerged  again  with  her  hat  and 
cloak,  for  she  was  leaving  for  the  Lycee.  This  was 
her  last  term,  and  she  did  not  wish  to  miss  a  single 
lesson.  She  was  punctual,  earnest  and  methodical  in 
her  work. 

Her  mother  looked  after  her  with  some  pride,  but 
stifled  a  small  sigh.  As  Jacqueline  was  about  to  leave 
the  room,  she  noticed  Frangoise's  wistful  gaze,  and 
came  back  towards  her. 

"What  is  the  matter,  tnantan  cherie?" 

"Nothing,  dearest,"  said  Frangoise,  turning  away 
her  head. 

"Si,  si — ^there  is  something,  maman"  insisted  Jac- 
queline. "Don't  think  you  can  hide  anything  from 
me — your  soul  is  as  clear  as  crystal !  Now  then,  dear, 
out  with  it!" 

The  tall,  graceful  girl  had  taken  her  mother  by 
the  shoulder,  and  was  peering  down  into  her  face. 

"  What  is  it  ?  Tell  me !  "  she  demanded  peremp- 
torily. 

"Well,"  said  Frangoise,  hesitating  and  somewhat 


102    THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

shame- facedly,  "if  you  will  have  it,  I  was  sighing, 
my  dearest,  because,  in  spite  of  your  brilliancy  and 
in  spite  of  your  cleverness  and  all  your  knowledge,  I 
wish  sometimes  you  were  a  little  tenderer — a  little 
gentler — towards  me.     .     .     .    That's  all,  dear." 

Jacqueline  remained  in  contemplation  of  Her 
mother  for  a  few  moments  in  silence.  She  noticed 
for  the  first  time  the  pallor  of  her  mother's  gentle, 
saddened  face,  and  the  threads  of  silver  in  the  still 
luxuriant  hair.  She  saw  the  heavy  tears  in  her 
mother's  eyes,  and  Jacqueline's  heart,  which  still  slum- 
bered but  which  nevertheless  was  capable  of  a  keen 
awakening,  went  out  to  her.  In  sudden  self-abase- 
ment she  threw  herself  at  Frangoise's  knees  and 
folded  her  in  her  strong  young  ams. 

"Poor  little  maman  cherie!  You  see  what  has 
happened!  You  wanted  a  free,  independent,  clever 
daughter,  and  you've  got  her,  haven't  you?  But  one 
must  sacrifice  something  to  brilliancy,  Maman  cherie, 
as  you  must  know !  Perhaps,  in  evolving  a  brain,  I've 
suppressed  my  heart  and  with  it  the  tenderer  emotions. 
And  you,  maman  cherie,  you  who  have  trained  me  to 
be  what  I  am,  are  my  first  victim!  'Que  veux-tu, 
maman?  .,  -.,  .  C'est  la  loi  de  la  nature!"  But 
Jacqueline  kissed  her  mother  with  far  more  real  ten- 
derness than  she  had  ever  shown  before. 

Luckily  for  the  peace  of  Frangoise's  spirit,  the 
gentleness  of  her  child's  filial  caresses  belied  the  cyni- 
cism of  her  words  and  took  away  their  sting. 

And  Jacqueline,  bending  over  her  mother  once  more 
folded  her  yet  once  again  to  her  heart,  kissing  her 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE     103 

fervently — ^not  with  the  tendresse  recueillie  of  the 
woman  who  has  suffered  and  become  herself  sweeter 
in  the  process,  but  with  the  still  unthinking  caress  of 
the  strong,  vital  creature  whose  soul  sorrow  has  not 
yet  been  either  impoverished  or  enriched. 


CHAPTER  VII 

Jacqueline  had  been  attending  the  lectures  at  the 
Sorbonne  for  over  a  year  now.  She  was  very  much 
interested  in  her  work,  and  thoroughly  appreciated 
the  entire  liberty  her  mother  not  only  allowed,  but 
encouraged,  her  to  enjoy  as  a  student  in  the  quarter. 
As  the  girl  had  nearly  reached  her  twentieth  birthday, 
Frangoise  was  very  happy  to  let  her  go  to  and  from 
the  Sorbonne  alone,  without  the  hired  attendant  who, 
in  default  of  a  mother,  usually  accompanies  unmarried 
French  girls  of  Jacqueline's  age,  for  she  considered 
that  the  experience  Jacqueline  would  thus  gain  of 
the  manner  in  which  defenceless  women  are  treated 
when  alone  in  the  streets  would  be  most  beneficial  to 
her. 

As  they  still  occupied  their  flat  near  the  Place 
Wagram,  Jacqueline  had  to  take  two  omnibuses  to 
get  to  the  Rue  des  Ecoles.  She  was  very  fond  of 
walking,  and  usually  took  an  omnibus  or  a  tramway 
as  far  as  the  Madeleine,  and  when  the  weather  was 
fine  proceeded  on  foot  from  the  Madeleine  to  the 
Sorbonne,  down  the  Rue  Royale,  across  the  Place  de 
la  Concorde,  and  along  the  Boulevard  St.  Germain 
as  far  as  the  Boulevard  St.  Michel.  This  was  a  long 
distance  for  a  girl  to  walk  alone  in  Paris,  and  though 
Jacqueline  was  stamped  as  a  student  at  first  sight 
because  of  the  leather  portfolio  containing  her  books 
of  notes  and  reference  under  her  arm,  her  tall  and 

104 


THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE    105 

rather  striking  appearance  always  attracted  attention, 
and  often  caused  her  some  annoyance. 

But  long  ago  when  she  was  quite  a  child  her  mother 
had  taught  her  what  attitude  was  necessary  for  a 
woman  alone  in  the  Paris  streets.  Because  a  yotmg 
Frenchman  has  more  admiration  though  less  real  re- 
spect for  women  than  an  Englishman  of  his  age,  and 
because  as  a  rule  young  French  girls  of  the  upper 
middle  classes  do  not  walk  out  alone,  the  girl  who, 
like  Jacqueline,  thus  violates  conventional  social  rules 
and  goes  out  unattended,  must  resign  herself  to  be 
subjected  to  all  sorts  of  petty  annoyances,  whatever 
her  own  behaviour  may  be. 

Nearly  every  day  Jacqueline  was  followed  by  some 
enterprising  young  swain  who  tried  in  vain  to  make 
acquaintance  with  her,  though  after  pursuing  her 
down  several  streets  he  would  find  that  she  gave  no 
response,  and  usually  abandoned  the  game.  Jacque- 
line, nevertheless,  found  it  most  irritating  and  she 
understood  that  the  repeated  advice  of  her  mother 
to  maintain  a  strict  appearance  of  severity  in  the 
streets  was  not  without  foundation.  This  attitude 
of  men  towards  her  had  a  curious  effect  upon  Jacque- 
line. It  not  only  wearied  and  displeased  her,  but  it 
inspired  her  with  a  profound  disdain  for  the  male 
sex  altogether.  She  felt  shocked  and  humiliated  by 
these  anonymous  attentions,  and  though  by  degrees 
she  became  more  or  less  accustomed  to  them  she 
never  became  entirely  inured. 

One  day  she  had  been  followed  all  along  the  Boule- 
vard St.  Germain  and  down  the  Boulevard  St.  Michel 


io6    THE  EDUCATION  OE  JACQUELINE 

by  a  young  rapin  who  tried  to  get  into  conversation 
with  her  at  various  crossings  where  the  traffic  some- 
times held  them  both  up  and  he  was  afforded  an 
opportunity  of  being  quite  close  to  his  quarry.  He 
was  a  pathetically  ridiculous  sight  with  his  small, 
shrunken  figure  clad  in  clothes  that  appeared  several 
sizes  too  large  for  him — ^wide,  baggy  trousers,  and 
a  coat  with  flowing  tails.  His  hat  was  of  the  wide- 
brimmed,  slouching  kind,  and  his  necktie  was  quite 
the  most  phenomenally  large  of  its  species,  being  tied 
in  a  bow  of  black  crepe-de-chine  with  long  loops  that 
stood  out  across  his  shoulders,  so  that  he  looked  as 
if  he  were  composed  of  merely  a  touzled  head  sur- 
mounted by  a  wide  sombrero  and  supported  by  a  large 
black  bow. 

His  appearance  was  so  truly  absurd  that  Jacqueline 
had  some  difficulty  in  refraining  from  showing  her 
amusement  at  the  sight  of  him,  and  some  irony 
mingled  with  the  vexation  she  felt  at  being  thus 
pursued.  When  she  had  nearly  reached  the  Rue  des 
Ecoles,  another  crossing  brought  her  pursuer  close 
to  her  elbow,  and  this  time  he  made  the  most  of  his 
opportunity,  and  addressed  her  with  a  medley  of  most 
fulsome  compliments. 

His  persistence  in  annoying  Jacqueline  had  been 
noticed  by  a  young  English  girl — a  fellow-student  of 
Jacqueline's  at  the  Sorbonne  and  a  pupil  at  the  same 
cours — who  had  been  walking  behind  for  some  time 
and  had  noticed  Jacqueline  on  in  front.  She  had 
never  spoken  to  Mademoiselle  Reville  at  the  Sorbonne 
but  had  noticed  her  often  among  the  other  students. 


THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE    107 

When  she  saw  the  absurd  rapin  trying  to  speak  to 
Jacqueline  against  her  will,  guessing  what  had  hap- 
pened, she  stepped  briskly  up  to  her  side  and  addressed 
her  in  a  low  tone. 

"  Is  he  annoying  you?  " 

"  Yes,  horribly!  I  can't  shake  him  off,"  replied 
Jacqueline,  recognizing  her  would-be  protector  at  a 
glance. 

'*  Le  vilain  petit  crapaud!"  said  the  English  girl. 
And  then  as  the  rapin  sidled  up  towards  the  two  girls : 
"I  advise  you  to  be  off  sharp,  you  ridiculous  little 
monkey ! "  she  said  to  the  man  in  English,  which  of 
course  he  did  not  understand.  But  in  answer  he 
stood  grinning  at  both  the  girls,  who  had  some  diffi- 
culty in  refraining  from  laughter  at  the  little  creature's 
absurd  presumption.  But  Jacqueline,  truly  most 
vexed,  looked  haughty  and  was  pale  with  disgust, 
while  her  English  companion  was  scarlet  with  rage  at 
what  she  called  the  imp's  impertinence. 

"What  makes  me  so  particularly  angry  is  that, 
socially,  the  kind  of  person  who  dares  to  follow  one 
in  the  streets  would  have  to  walk  up  the  back  stair- 
case and  enter  by  the  servants'  entrance,  if  he  ever 
had  any  reason  to  come  to  one's  own  house  at  all!" 
she  exclaimed.  And  she  stuck  close  to  Jacqueline's 
side. 

At  this  moment  the  English  girl  caught  sight  of 
a  man  seated  at  one  of  the  tables  in  front  of  the  Cafe 
Vachette,  and  she  immediately  called  out  to  him  in 
a  shrill  treble. 

"  Oh,  Oliver !    Do  come  here  a  moment  I " 


io8     THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE 

As  the  man  rose  immediately  and  came  towards  her, 
she  explained  to  him. 

"There's  a  beastly  little  whippersnapper,  an  inso- 
lent monkey  who  has  been  following  this  young  lady 
for  some  time  and  annoying  her  with  his  persistent 
and  most  unwelcome  attentions.  She's  a  fellow- 
student  of  mine  at  the  Sorbonne.  Do  come  and  shake 
him  off." 

And  then,  turning  to  Jacqueline:  "This  is  my 
brother,  mademoiselle.  You  may  rely  on  him  to 
defend  you." 

The  young  fellow  addressed  as  Oliver  put  down  a 
fifty-centime  piece  in  the  saucer  of  his  bock  and  im- 
mediately left  the  cafe  in  company  with  the  two  girls. 

"  ril  come  with  you  as  far  as  the  Sorbonne,"  he 
said  and  promptly  went  and  stood  on  the  other  side 
of  Jacqueline,  who  was  still  pale  with  annoyance  and 
trembling  in  all  her  limbs.  "  Don't  be  afraid,  made- 
moiselle; if  that  little  cad  dares  to  annoy  you  in  my 
presence,  I  think  he'll  rug  it ! " 

Jacqueline  raised  a  glance  of  gratitude  that  met 
the  straightforward  blue  eyes  of  the  big,  tall  English- 
man, and  felt  reassured  at  once.  But  beyond  mur- 
muring her  thanks  she  said  nothing,  and  in  a  few 
moments  the  trio  arrived  at  the  door  of  the  University. 
Meanwhile  the  "  ridiculous  monkey "  had  prudently 
disappeared.  For  such  is  the  courage  of  the  street 
admirer. 

But  the  incident  led  to  a  friendship  between  Jac- 
queline and  the  English  girl,  whose  name  was  Nelly 
Brent.     She  was  exactly  the  same  age  as  Jacqueline, 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE     109 

and  was  spending  three  years  in  Paris  with  her  aunt 
and  brother,  in  order  to  acquire  the  French  language. 
OHver  Brent,  nearly  eight  years  older  than  his  sister, 
was  a  painter.  He  had  lived  in  Paris  for  the  last  ten 
years  and  had  studied  at  the  various  art  schools  of 
the  Quartier  and  at  the  Beaux-Arts,  and  was  now  an 
exhibitor  of  more  than  great  promise  at  the  Salon 
des  Artistes  Frangais  as  well  as  at  the  Royal  Academy 
in  London.  He  had  his  studio  in  a  small  street  near 
the  Observatoire,  but  he  lived  en  famille  with  his  aunt 
and  sister  in  their  apartment  on  the  Boulevard  Raspail. 

Oliver  and  Nelly  Brent  were  orphans,  and  Nelly 
had  lived  with  her  aunt  since  her  father's  death  when 
she  was  ten  years  old.  Oliver,  who  was  then  eighteen, 
settled  in  Paris  as  an  art  student.  Now  that  Nelly's 
education  was  drawing  to  a  close,  Mrs.  John  Brent, 
who  was  a  widow  in  comfortable  circumstances,  had 
let  her  house  in  London  furnished  for  three  years, 
so  as  to  be  able  to  go  and  live  in  Paris  with  her 
niece  during  the  time  of  her  education  abroad.  When 
his  aunt  and  sister  settled  in  Paris,  Oliver,  who  until 
then  had  lived  with  a  French  family,  came  to  live  at 
the  flat  in  the  Boulevard  Raspail. 

With  that  spontaneous  hospitality  that  character- 
izes English  people  both  at  home  and  abroad,  and 
always  fills  French  people,  when  they  meet  it,  with 
such  great  admiration,  Nelly  Brent,  who  had  conceived 
a  sudden  but  real  affection  for  Jacqueline  after  the 
incident  of  the  "ridiculous  monkey,"  asked  her  to 
come  to  her  house  to  have  tea  one  Thursday  after- 
noon.   It  was  Mrs.  Brent's  at-home  day,  upon  which 


no    THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

occasion  the  aunt  and  niece  received  their  English 
and  American  friends  of  the  Quartier.  For  the  Brents 
belonged  to  that  section  of  Anglo-American  residents 
in  the  Quartier  which  forms  a  set  entirely  apart  in 
Paris,  ignoring  Parisians  and  by  Parisians  ignored. 

After  Jacqueline  had  been  two  or  three  times  to 
tea  at  the  Brents'  house,  she  was  one  evening  invited 
by  them  to  dinner,  and  as  Frangoise  did  not  wish  her 
daughter  to  be  out  late  at  night  alone,  she  decided  to 
fetch  Jacqueline  home  herself,  and  so  make  the  ac- 
quaintance of  these  new  friends. 

Mrs.  Brent,  a  kind,  motherly  English  matron  of 
the  sort  who  looks  upon  the  children  of  a  rising  gener- 
ation as  if  they  were  creatures  of  another  world,  and 
too  far  above  her  for  her  to  attempt  to  understand — 
still  less  control — them,  was  delighted  with  Madame 
Reville,  the  only  Frenchwoman  whose  acquaintance 
she  had  ever  made.  She  had  been  persuaded  until 
now — and  a  good  many  honest  English  wives  and 
mothers  safe  at  home  in  virtuous  England  still  share 
her  erroneous  belief — that  all  Frenchwomen,  like  the 
heroines  of  most  French  novels,  are  unfaithful  wives 
and  bad,  though  indulgent,  mothers.  But  Frangoise's 
quiet,  reserved  charm  and  maternal  devotion  quite 
won  good  Mrs.  Brent's  affection,  and  as  their  acquaint- 
ance progressed  helped  to  dispel  this  conviction. 

Nelly  Brent  was  a  tall,  lanky  girl  with  pale,  honey- 
coloured  hair,  light  blue  eyes,  with  fair  lashes  and 
eyebrows,  large  white  prominent  teeth  and  full  red 
lips.  She  had  the  flat  shapeless  figure  and  long,  flex- 
ible hands  with  knotted  joints  which  certain  fortune- 


THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE     in 

tellers  declare  show  a  tendency  towards  the  possession 
of  a  philosophical  mind.  In  summertime  she  nearly 
always  wore  a  brown  straw  mushroom-shaped  hat 
with  a  flopping  Liberty  silk  scarf  tied  around  the 
crown,  and  a  skirt  and  coat  of  Liberty  green  serge. 
In  winter  she  was  dressed  in  the  same  way,  except 
that  her  straw  hat  was  replaced  by  a  felt  one  of  the 
same  colour.  She  was  a  good,  kind,  hoydenish  girl 
with  a  certain  amount  of  brain  culture  which  she  had 
not  quite  assimilated  but  had  stored  up  in  her  mind  as 
one  stores  useless  furniture  in  a  boxroom.  She  was 
troubled  neither  with  nerves  nor  taste  nor  subtlety. 
But  she  was  a  staunch  and  true  friend,  and  had  a 
genuine  liking  for  Jacqueline  that  rapidly  grew  into 
real  friendship  as  the  months  went  by. 

Though  Nelly  was  a  thorough  Brent,  Oliver,  her 
brother,  was  entirely  different.  It  was  astonishing 
that  a  man  with  such  artistic  tendencies,  with  such  an 
enthusiastic  love  of  beauty,  should  come  from  the 
Brent  stock,  for,  admirable  folk  though  they  were, 
the  Brents  were  yet  bourgeois  of  the  bourgeois,  and 
had  no  conception  of  art  in  any  form.  Perhaps,  how- 
ever, one  might  have  sought  and  found  the  explana- 
tion of  Oliver's  artistic  tendencies  in  the  fact  that  his 
father,  Charles  Brent,  a  City  solicitor,  had  met,  loved, 
wooed  and  married  a  French  girl,  the  daughter  of  a 
painter  of  some  talent  whose  acquaintance  he  had 
made  when  over  in  Paris  on  business.  But  after 
Suzanne  Lefort  had  married  Charles  Brent,  she  did 
what  so  many  French  women  of  spirit  do  when  they 
go  to  live  in  England:  she  became  more  entichee  of 


112     THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

the  manners  and  customs  of  English  people  than  any 
British  female  born  on  English  soil  can  ever  be. 
She  was  continually  comparing  the  virtues  of  the 
English  with  the  weaknesses  and  faults  of  the  French. 
She  rarely  made  her  comparisons  with  real  discern- 
ment, for  she  was  so  grateful  to  Charles  Brent  for 
having  married  her  without  a  dot  that  she  was  apt 
to  be  somewhat  biassed  in  her  judgments. 

But  all  her  adoration  for  her  new  patrie  did  not 
prevent  the  fact  that  her  son  Oliver  was  more  like  a 
French  boy  in  his  instinctive  love  of  beauty  and  of 
form  than  an  English  lad;  and  when  at  an  early  age 
he  developed  a  decided  love  and  talent  for  drawing 
and  painting,  Suzanne  was  obliged  to  admit — much 
to  her  sorrow — that  he  had  inherited  the  gifts  of  her 
ow^  artistic  family  rather  than  the  more  stolid  char- 
acteristics of  the  good  Brents.  Oliver  was  eight 
years  old  when  Nelly  was  born,  but  the  poor  mother 
had  little  time  to  rejoice  in  the  possession  of  a  daugh- 
ter whom  she  intended  to  bring  up  d  I'anglaise,  for 
her  own  short  life  had  almost  come  to  an  end.  Had 
the  young  French  mother  lived,  she  would  have 
revelled  in  the  fact  that  Nelly  was  as  English  a  girl 
as  could  be  desired.  She  was  the  image  of  her  fair- 
haired,  genial  father,  and  had  none  of  the  dreaminess, 
none  of  the  artistic  imagination,  of  her  brother.  Un- 
fortunately for  both  Nelly  and  Oliver,  their  father 
died  ten  years  after  the  loss  of  his  beloved  French 
wife.  Oliver,  already  destined  for  art,  was  sent  to 
Paris  to  study,  by  an  assembly  of  grave  Brent  uncles 
who  represented  the  entire  family  council — for  Su- 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE     113 

zanne  had  no  near  relations  of  her  own — while  Nelly 
was  taken  into  the  home  of  Mrs.  John  Brent,  who 
had  means  and  no  children  of  her  own.  She  had  sent 
Nelly  to  a  good  high  school,  and  when  the  girl 
was  eighteen  Mrs.  Brent  had  decided  that  her  niece's 
education  should  be  finished  in  Paris,  where  Oliver 
still  lived  in  the  French  family — distant  connections 
of  his  own  mother — of  which  he  had  been  a  member 
for  the  last  eight  years. 

His  dual  education  had  made  of  Oliver  Brent  rather 
a  complex  individuality  in  spite  of  his  uncompromis- 
ingly British  appearance.  Though  he  had  the  bright 
golden  hair,  the  clear  blue  eyes,  and  fresh  complexion 
of  the  true  Brents,  he  had  much  in  him  of  his  French 
forebears  too.  But  he  was  not  entirely  French.  For 
he  had  received  his  earliest  education  in  England,  and 
there  is  nothing  more  uncomprisingly  indelible  than 
the  strong  moral  training  of  the  Anglo-Saxon.  It 
imbued  Oliver  with  a  sound  ethical  judgment,  and 
equipped  him  with  an  armour  of  invincible  character 
that  no  demoralising  external  force,  however  insidi- 
ous, could  ever  pierce  through.  But  as  it  tended  to 
develop  neither  his  taste  nor  his  intellect,  it  could 
neither  influence  nor  aid  the  progress  of  his  innate 
artistic  yearnings. 

From  his  babyhood  his  mother  had  spoken  French 
to  him,  so  that  although  he  learned  English  from  his 
father  and  from  his  nurses,  he  was  quite  familiar  with 
French  too. 

When  he  went,  at  the  age  of  eighteen,  to  live  in 
France  entirely,  he  was  already  prepared  through 


(114    THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

his  knowledge  of  the  language,  as  well  as  by  his  own 
partially  French  nature,  to  assimilate  what  most  ap- 
pealed to  him  in  French  life.  At  the  time  when  he 
met  Madame  Reville  and  her  daughter,  he  had  evolved 
a  curiously  dual  personality.  All  that  early  education 
can  achieve  in  the  moulding  of  an  individual,  in  the 
influencing  of  his  morals  and  convictions,  and  in  the 
fashioning  of  his  reason,  had  brought  out  in  Oliver 
his  most  British  tendencies.  But  all  the  suggestions 
of  his  impulses  and  instincts  as  well  as  his  artistic 
tastes  were  entirely  French.  Being  an  artist  and 
living  in  Paris,  the  French  element  in  him  neces- 
sarily predominated  until  he  was  brought  face  to  face 
with  some  moral  dilemma — and  then  the  whole  force 
of  his  British  convictions  at  once  affirmed  itself  vic- 
torious in  him.  It  was  a  strange  mixture  as  of  two 
individualities  within  one  soul  which  gained  him  var- 
ious and  varied  sympathies  among  many  strongly  con- 
flicting individuals. 

Oliver  Brent  was  an  artist  to  his  finger  tips.  He 
was  enthusiastically  and  passionately  attached  to  his 
art.  He  had  large  ambitions  and  was  determined  to 
be  one  of  the  great  painters  of  the  day.  That  he 
would  ultimately  attain  his  end  was  almost  certain, 
for  he  had  already  set  his  foot  upon  the  road  that 
leads  to  glory.  He  was  a  tall,  strong  fellow,  not 
oppressively  athletic,  but  lithe,  supple,  and  nervous. 
His  sister's  noisy  and  somewhat  overpowering  vivacity 
often  wearied  him,  but  he  was  completely  devoted  to 
her  nevertheless.  He  was  reserved  and  proud,  though 
not  a  bit  of  a  poseur,  and  was  thoroughly  liked  by  all 


THE    EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE     ir^ 

his  companions  in  the  'Qmrtier.  But  his  tempera- 
ment, compared  with  the  exuberance  of  his  sister, 
appeared  somewhat  cold  and  restrained.  His  enthu- 
siasms were  deep,  lasting,  and  patient.  He  was  an 
excellent  and  most  reliable  fellow,  and  was  looked 
up  to  by  his  aunt  with  that  rather  plaintive  and 
touching  awe  of  some  Englishwomen  for  all  males 
of  their  families,  whether  fathers,  husbands  or  sons. 

Everything  Oliver  did  or  said  was  for  her  always 
right.  His  word  was  indeed  her  law,  and  if  anyone 
could  inspire  the  buoyant  Nelly  too  with  a  subduing 
respect,  it  was  her  brother  Oliver.  They  were  great 
companions,  and  there  was  nothing  that  Oliver  en- 
joyed more  than  to  take  Nelly  out  with  him  to  the 
museums  of  Paris  and  endeavour  to  interest  her  in 
the  pictures  and  sculptures  he  explained  to  her.  Nelly, 
however,  possessed  no  artistic  tastes,  and  visits  to  the 
Louvre  or  the  Luxembourg  Gallery  did  not  appeal  to 
her  very  much.  However,  when  her  friend  Jacqueline 
could  be  persuaded  to  join  them,  there  was  no  happier 
trio  of  friends  in  Paris  than  Oliver,  Nelly  and  Jac- 
queline. 

Jacqueline  was  as  analytical  and  as  over-sexed  as 
Nelly  was  the  reverse.  And  yet  the  girls  became 
.devoted  friends.  As  she  had  grown  older,  Jacqueline 
had  somewhat  frightened  her  mother  by  her  excessive 
spirit  of  coquetry.  It  had  developed  almost  uncon- 
sciously at  first,  but  now  it  was  one  of  her  chief 
characteristics.  In  spite  of  her  mental  culture,  her 
scientific  knowledge  and  philosophical  understanding, 
her  innate  femininity  was  stronger  even  than  her  will. 


3i6    THE  EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE 

and  Frangoise  was  bound  to  admit  herself  unable  to 
cope  with  it  because  of  its  instinctive  force.  As  soon 
as  she  had  become  aware  of  this  powerful  element  in 
her  young  daughter — which  was  a  characteristic  in- 
herited from  her  father — Frangoise  had  endeavoured 
to  crush  it  out  by  repeated  appeals  to  her  reason  and 
intelligence.  But  the  training  of  her  brain  had  only 
seemed  to  intensify  it,  and,  being  now  consciously 
awakened,  her  coquetry  became  far  more  dangerous 
than  if  it  had  remained  merely  instinctive. 

Frangoise  therefore  hailed  with  joy  Jacqueline's 
friendship  with  Nelly,  whose  blatant  good  spirits, 
boyish  love  of  fun,  and  entire  lack  of  sex-interest 
made  her  an  excellent  companion  for  Jacqueline.  She 
restrained  Jacqueline's  temperament,  without  even 
being  conscious  of  it  herself.  By  her  ridicule 
of  them,  she  belittled  sentimentality  and  charm  and 
all  those  feminine  artifices  by  means  of  which  even 
very  young  girls  seek  to  attract  men,  and  her  sound 
common-sense,  as  well  as  her  healthy  boyishness,  had 
an  excellently  subduing  effect  upon  her  young  French 
friend. 

The  rather  proud  beauty  of  Jacqueline,  and  the 
quiet  reserve  and  gentleness  of  Frangoise,  in  com- 
parison with  his  sister's  boisterousness  and  his  aunt's 
naive  and  voluble  affection,  appealed  greatly  to  Oliver. 
As  an  artist,  he  could  not  but  admire  the  beauty  of  Jac- 
queline. Her  tall  slimness,  her  golden  hair,  her  dark 
eyes — ^so  winning  in  their  expression — her  firm,  de- 
cided lips,  and  her  vibrant  yet  proud  little  nose,  made 
so  attractive  an  ensemble  that  Oliver,  soon  after  his 


THE    EDUCATION   OF   JACQUELINE     117 

family  had  made  the  acquaintance  of  Madame  Reville 
and  her  daughter,  began  to  realize  that  he  had  lost 
his  heart  to  the  fair  young  French  girl. 

For  some  months  there  was  much  pleasant  inter- 
course between  the  two  families.  The  well-meaning 
Mrs.  Brent  seemed  as  fond  of  Frangoise  as  "  Noll  and 
Nell,"  as  she  quaintly  called  her  nephew  and  niece, 
were  of  Jacqueline,  and  the  comparisons  they  could 
establish  between  English  and  French  family  customs 
were  always  a  great  source  of  interest  to  both  Mrs. 
Brent  and  Madame  Reville.  Mrs.  Brent  was  agreeably 
astonished  to  see  how  Madame  Reville  had  brought 
up  her  daughter.  The  good  lady  was  for  ever  lament- 
ing the  destiny  of  the  "poor  young  French  girls," 
who  are  never  allowed  any  individuality  of  their  own. 
But,  when  compared  to  Nelly's,  Jacqueline's  inde- 
pendence was  but  a  rudimentary  thing  even  yet. 

As  the  friendly  relations  of  the  Revilles  and  the 
Brents  were  beginning  to  ripen  into  real  friendship, 
there  were  times  when  the  pleasant  harmony  that 
existed  between  the  two  families  was  threatened  with 
destruction  by  the  attitude  of  Jacqueline  towards 
Oliver.  At  times  her  "cursed  femininity,"  as  he 
called  it,  and  her  love  of  coquetry,  would  get  the 
better  of  Jacqueline,  who,  to  amuse  herself,  would 
treat  Oliver  abominably.  She  soon  perceived  the  at- 
traction she  exercised  over  him,  and  it  amused  her  to 
test  the  extent  of  her  powers.  Notwithstanding  his 
partially  French  temperament  and  education,  the  hon- 
est matter-of-factness  of  his  English  training  in  his 
relations  with  women  still  survived.    He  never  entirely 


ii8    THE  EDUCATION  OF.  JACQUELINE 

assimilated  during  his  residence  in  France  the  methods 
of  light  galanterie  in  which  the  young  Frenchman  ex- 
cels. He  therefore  failed  to  understand  the  motives  of 
such  fine  play  as  Jacqueline's  subtle  flirtation  and  was 
often  at  a  loss  to  discover  the  meaning  of  her  deceptive 
smiles.  Yet  there  were  times  when  he  shrewdly  dis- 
trusted her  and  began  to  understand  faintly  that  the 
young  lady  was  only  amusing  herself.  He  therefore 
assumed  an  attitude  of  courteous  indifference,  which, 
however,  was  not  devoid  of  a  certain  susceptibility 
to  her  blandishments.  This  posture  goaded  Jacqueline 
to  renewed  attacks  of  her  wiles,  and  when,  having 
once  more  entrapped  Oliver  in  her  net,  she  again 
mocked  and  jeered,  the  young  man  lost  his  temper. 
Then  there  were  fiery  quarrels  between  them. 

In  these  instances  peace  was  often  restored  by  the 
kind-hearted  Nelly,  who  generally  succeeded  in  being 
blamed  by  both  of  them,  but  who  good-naturedly 
accepted  all  reproaches,  provided  she  could  get  them 
both  back  into  friendly  relations  once  more. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

One  day  Mrs.  Brent  came  to  call  upon  Frangoise 
Reville.  Jacqueline  and  Nelly  being  together  at  the 
Sorbonne,  and  therefore  well  out  of  the  way,  Mrs. 
Brent  felt  herself  relieved  from  the  strain  which  the 
cold,  discerning  eye  of  her  up-to-date  niece  always 
put  upon  her.  She  thawed  considerably,  and  in  her 
confidences  to  Frangoise  when  quite  alone,  she  did  not 
try  to  conceal  her  delight  in  her  freedom  from  re- 
straint. For  Mrs.  Brent  was  afraid  equally  of  her 
Nell  and  her  Noll,  though  she  adored  them  both.  She 
was  really  only  her  natural  self  when  out  of  their 
presence.  She  was  so  convinced  of  their  superiority 
of  herself  both  in  the  knowledge  that  was  gained  in 
the  world,  and  the  knowledge  contained  in  books,  that 
she  feared  their  fathoming  scrutiny  beyond  all  things. 

She  confided  to  Frangoise  as  soon  as  she  arrived  in 
her  dainty  salon  and  was  seated  comfortably  in  an 
armchair  of  red  leather  close  to  a  glowing  fire  of 
burning  logs,  that  she  had  called  to-day  with  the  in- 
tention of  making  a  suggestion. 

"  Wait  until  you  are  nicely  settled  first,"  said  Fran- 
goise.  "Untie  your  bonnet  strings,  take  off  your 
gloves,  loosen  your  cloak  at  the  throat,  and  then  when 
you  have  drunk  this  cup  of  tea  that  I  have  ready  for 
you,  you  can  tell  me  your  news." 

Mrs.  Brent  did  as  she  was  told.  She  always  did. 
119 


I20    THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

She  allowed  herself  to  subside  into  the  wide  chair 
and  suffered  Frangoise  to  untie  her  veil,  draw  off 
her  gloves,  and  settle  her  comfortably  with  hot  tea 
and  toasted  brioche. 

It  was  a  fair  April  afternoon.  The  sun  was  shining 
with  sufficient  brightness  to  remind  human  beings  that 
it  would  be  capable  of  still  more  ardour  when  the  com- 
pleteness of  the  season  should  have  come.  Outside  in 
Frangoise's  little  garden  over  which  the  three  windows 
of  the  salon  enjoyed  a  glorious  view,  the  leaves  of 
the  chestnut  trees  were  bursting  their  varnished  pods, 
showing  a  pretty  display  of  tender  vernal  green. 

"I  think  the  fine  weather  will  be  with  us  soon,  my 
dear,"  said  good  Mrs.  John  Brent  to  Frangoise.  "  Sum- 
mer time  is  coming.  Nelly's  cours  at  the  Sorbonne — 
as  she  calls  them :  she  forbids  me  to  call  the  Sorbonne 
a  school — though  after  all  that's  what  it  is,  only  the 
pupils  are  all  grown-ups — will  soon  be  at  an  end,  and 
we  shall  have  to  be  thinking  about  holidays." 

"  It's  rather  early  yet  to  speak  of  holidays,  is  it 
not  ?  "  said  Frangoise. 

"It's  not  too  early  to  discuss  my  plan  anyway," 
said  Mrs.  Brent.  "  In  fact,  it's  just  the  right  time  to 
speak  of  it." 

"  Well,"  said  Frangoise,  smiling,  "  I  can  see  you  are 
dying  to  tell  me ;  so  begin ! " 

"Well,  now,  tell  me,"  began  Mrs.  Brent  radiantly, 
"  when  the  holidays  do  begin,  how  are  you  going  to 
live  without  us?  By  m^  I  mean  myself  and  Nell  and 
Noll." 

"  Well,  I'm  sure  I  do  not  know,"  said  Frangoise, 


THE    EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE     121 

laughing,  "  I've  never  thought  about  it.  Don't  think 
me  unkind,  but  I  have  never  yet  faced  that  terrible 
eventuality !  But,  of  course,  if  the  holidays  do  separ- 
ate us,  it  will  be  a  great  loss  to  me  and  Jacqueline." 

"I  don't  intend  that  the  hoHdays  should  separate 
us  then !  What  I  propose  is  this.  Instead  of  you  and 
Jacqueline  going  to  the  seaside  or  to  Switzerland  or 
anywhere  else,  why  should  you  not  join  us  in  taking 
a  small  furnished  house  for  the  season  somewhere 
near  Paris — St.  Germain,  or  Versailles,  or  Vaucres- 
son?" 

Frangoise  was  silent  for  a  moment.  Then,  as  the 
idea  commended  itself  to  her,  she  replied: 

"Yes — if  Jacqueline  approves  of  the  idea — I  don't 
at  all  see  why  we  should  not  put  it  into  execution.  Of 
course  I  should  not  be  able  to  decide  without  her." 

"Of  course  not,  my  dear — nor  I  without  the  appro- 
bation of  Nell  and  Noll.  Indeed,  these  modern  chil- 
dren decide  everything  for  us,  don't  they?  When  I 
was  young,  I  did  as  my  parents  told  me  .  .  . 
Now  it's  just  the  reverse.  I  do  what  my  niece  and 
nephew  tell  me.  But  all  the  same,  even  they  can't 
prevent  me  from  having  ideas  of  my  own,  and  I  think 
this  is  a  good  one." 

"  Yes,"  said  Frangoise,  "  I  must  admit  that  it  ap- 
peals to  me.  I  am  happy  to  see  the  friendship  between 
Jacquehne  and  Nelly  progressing  so  steadily  and 
surely."  Mrs.  Brent's  smile  of  satisfaction  was  radi- 
ant. She  was  always  happy  to  know  that  her  Nelly 
was  appreciated.  "  Your  niece's  example  and  influence 
are  excellent  for  Jacqueline.    Your  Nelly  restrains  my 


122     THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

Jacqueline's  superabundant  femininity  with  her  bois- 
terous common-sense." 

"  And  Jacqueline  is  a  good  companion,  too,  for 
Nelly.  She  can  help  her  to  be  more  womanly,  more 
gentle,  and  more  considerate." 

"Oh!"  laughed  Francoise,  "you  must  not  expect 
the  girls  of  our  time  to  have  consideration  for  any- 
one. They  live  and  act  to  please  themselves — not  to 
please  others!  And  I'm  not  sure  that  they  are  not 
right.  We  of  our  generation,  at  least  in  France,  were 
brought  up  to  be  always  dominated  by  the  tastes, 
desires  and  wills  of  others.  The  consequence  is 
that  we  are  never  really  ourselves  all  our  lives  long. 
After  I  was  no  longer  subservient  to  my  husband, 
I  became  subservient  to  my  daughter — as  you  are  to 
both  your  niece  and  nephew.  No,  my  dear,  let  us — 
the  women  of  a  past  generation — recognise  the  truth 
and  resign  ourselves  unconditionally  to  expecting  but 
scant  deference  from  those  of  the  younger  generation. 
We  ourselves  do  not  go  the  right  way  to  enforce  it." 

"  Perhaps  not,"  acquiesced  Mrs.  Brent  reluctantly. 
"  But  do  think  over  my  plan,  I  beg  of  you,  and  do 
your  utmost  to  influence  Jacqueline's  determination 
nevertheless.  It  would  be  so  charming  to  spend  the 
summer  together  in  some  nice  old  house  with  a  large 
garden  in  the  country!" 

"  I  agree  with  you,  so  far  as  my  own  tastes  are 
concerned,"  replied  Frangoise.  "  But  there  is  Jacque- 
line to  be  considered  first  of  all — with  me.  I'll 
suggest  it  to  her  and  let  you  know." 

"  I'ye  heard  of  a  charming  spot  near  Louveciennes," 


THE    EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE     123 

pursued  Mrs.  Brent,  still  intent  upon  her  idea.  "  It's 
within  a  fine  walk  of  the  old  historic  spot  of  Marly, 
with  its  beautiful  old  forest.  How  I  should  love  to 
spend  the  summer  there  with  you  all!  Oliver  would 
have  loads  of  sketching  to  do.  And  we  two  old 
fogies  could  rest  under  the  trees  in  the  garden  all 
the  afternoon  when  the  young  people  were  out  to- 
gether excursioning." 

"It  sounds  delightful!"  said  Frangoise,  smiling 
with  amusement  at  hearing  herself  described  as  an 
"  old  fogey.  "  But  I'll  let  you  know  later  what  Jac- 
queline says." 

The  proposition  made  by  Mrs.  Brent  met  not  only 
with  general  approbation  but  with  enthusiasm  from 
all  concerned.  Nelly  and  Oliver  were  both  delighted 
at  the  thought  of  spending  a  holiday  with  Jacqueline, 
and  Jacqueline  herself  was  charmed  with  the  idea.  It 
was  decided  that  on  the  Sunday  after  Easter,  which 
fell  in  mid- April  that  year,  the  two  "mothers,"  as 
the  younger  ones  called  them,  should  go  on  a  voyage 
of  exploration  on  the  St.  Lazare  line  to  find  the 
coveted  summer  residence. 

It  was  found  eventually  at  the  lovely  spot,  midway 
between  La-Celle-St.-Cloud  and  Louveciennes,  of 
which  Mrs.  Brent  had  spoken.  It  was  within  half  an 
hour's  walk  of  the  Marly  forest,  and  close  to  a  railway 
station.  The  house,  which  was  formed  of  two  old 
cottages  knocked  into  one,  was  sufficiently  spacious 
to  accommodate  them  all  comfortably,  and  yet  had 
a  spare  room  for  any  visitor  they  should  choose  to 
invite.    The  garden  was  a  lovely  wilderness  of  mossy 


124     THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE 

lawn,  of  old  lime  and  poplar  trees  and  thick  straggling 
rose  trees,  many  of  which  had  remained  so  long  un- 
tended  that  they  had  reverted  to  their  former  wild 
state  and  yielded  deliciously  fragrant  and  cuplike 
dog-roses,  creamy- white  and  pink.  At  the  end  of 
the  garden  was  a  red  brick  tower,  half  covered  with 
ivy,  at  the  top  of  which  was  a  room  about  four  yards 
square,  with  a  window  in  each  wall,  which  could  be 
arranged  as  a  studio  for  Oliver. 

When  the  young  people  went  down  to  inspect  the 
old  house  they  declared  themselves  delighted  with  it. 
It  was  furnished  simply,  but  quite  charmingly,  with 
old  Norman  and  Breton  benches  and  armoires,  tables 
and  chairs,  and  a  few  choice  bits  of  old  brass-work. 
The  bedrooms  were  simple  and  gay  with  pitch-pine 
furniture  and  cretonne  hangings.  It  was  clean  and 
dainty,  if  not  luxurious.  Already  in  early  June,  Mrs. 
Brent  and  Frangoise  had  been  able  to  run  down  several 
times  to  prepare  the  new  abode,  and  by  the  middle 
of  the  month  Mrs.  Brent  with  Nelly  and  Oliver,  and 
Frangoise  with  Jacqueline  and  Clemence,  were  settled 
there. 

And  then  a  charming  life  began  for  all  concerned. 
Oliver  closed  his  Paris  studio  and  brought  down  all 
his  painting  materials,  and  a  large  new  canvas  on 
which  to  paint  Jacqueline's  portrait — an  undertaking 
which  had  been  decided  upon  many  months  before. 
Jacqueline  had  provided  herself  with  many  new  or 
favourite  old  books,  while  Nelly  busied  herself  exclu- 
sively with  the  getting  together  of  tennis  racquets 
and   balls,   cricket  and    cricket    implements,   besides 


THE    EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE     125 

hammock  and  deck  chairs  for  lounging  around  in  the 
garden. 

The  weather  being  very  fine,  life  at  Les  Peupliers 
promised  to  be  idyllic. 

As  soon  as  they  were  settled  in  the  house,  the 
young  people  began  to  arrange  their  own  special  and 
individual  comforts.  Oliver,  taking  up  all  his  painting 
apparatus  into  the  tower,  fixed  up  his  studio  to  his 
liking,  and  prepared  himself  for  hard  work  every 
morning.  The  tower  consisted  of  three  small  rooms 
one  on  the  top  of  another,  and  a  fine  square  terrace  on 
the  top  of  all,  surrounded  by  a  balustrade.  From  here 
a  fine  comprehensive  view  of  the  surrounding  coun- 
try could  be  obtained.  To  the  left  on  the  dim  horizon 
one  could  see  the  straight  line  of  the  famous  terrace 
of  St.  Germain,  and  beyond  that  a  still  fainter  blue 
suggestion  of  yet  more  distant  regions.  On  the  right, 
rose  wooded  hills  culminating  in  a  beautiful  sloping 
sward  on  which  was  set  the  Chateau  de  Beauregard 
— one  of  the  finest  country  seats  near  Paris,  which 
was  originally  built  by  Napoleon  III.  for  his  English 
favourite,  Miss  Howard,  the  mother  of  the  Comte  de 
Beauregard.  Right  in  front  of  the  tower  terrace,  on 
the  wooded  heights  of  La-Celle-St.-CIoud,  rose  another 
fine  building,  La  Chataigneraie,  the  residence  of  Mon- 
sieur Blanc  of  Monte  Carlo  fame.  And  in  the  opposite 
direction  behind  the  tower  was  yet  another  fine  coun- 
try dwelling  known  as  the  Chateau  du  Camp.  Indeed, 
the  delightful  country  abounded  in  famous  chateaux, 
historical  and  modern,  for  the  neighbourhood  is  one  of 
the  most  picturesque  near  Paris.     The  former  resi- 


126    THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

dence  of  La  Dubarry  was  in  a  still  almost  perfect  state 
of  preservation  at  Louveciennes,  and  the  castle  of  La- 
Celle-St.-Cloud,  which  had  been  inhabited  by  Madame 
de  Pompadour,  almost  faced  the  tower  on  the  western 
side. 

Oliver  was  delighted  with  the  idea  of  sketching  fine 
views  and  landscapes  as  backgrounds  for  several  por- 
traits for  which  he  had  been  commissioned.  Nelly 
and  Jacqueline  were  also  charmed  with  the  spot,  Jac- 
queline because  of  its  many  historical  souvenirs  and 
beautiful  walks,  and  Nelly  because  of  the  opportunities 
the  garden  afforded  her  for  her  favourite  games.  At 
the  end  of  the  first  week  and  with  the  devoted  help 
of  a  young  gardener  in  the  village  she  had  turned  the 
flat,  green  lawn  into  a  very  presentable  tennis-ground. 
A  croquet  set  was  installed  farther  down  near  to  the 
tower  and  between  every  couple  of  trees  that  grew 
near  together,  hammocks  were  slung  ready  for  lazy 
occupants.  When  Nelly  could  not  persuade  Oliver 
or  Jacqueline  to  join  her  in  a  game,  she  called  in  the 
gamins  of  the  village  and  greatly  to  their  delight  initi- 
ated them  into  the  mysteries  of  cricket  and  lawn- 
tennis. 

But  a  new  companion  had  now  come  into  Nelly's 
life  to  gladden  it  still  more,  in  the  person  of  a  young 
fox-terrier  pup  which  had  been  presented  to  her  one 
morning  by  her  rustic  admirer — ^the  young  gardener. 
Rip — an  uneducated  youngster  who  looked  as  if  he 
were  made  of  gutta-percha — so  loose  and  flexible  were 
all  his  limbs — was  now  a  great  feature  in  the  life  of 
Les  Peupliers.     He  uprooted  all  the  flowers  which 


THE    EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE     127 

Nelly  planted  with  such  diligent  care  in  the  garden  in 
order  to  add  to  his  vegetable  diet  and  demolished  all 
the  boots  and  shoes  of  the  community  with  undis- 
criminating  unpartiality.  Above  all  he  showed  a  de- 
cided predilection  for  the  taste  of  Oliver's  paint- 
brushes. But  he  was  a  great  favourite  with  all  the 
household  in  spite  of  his  bad  behaviour. 

The  days  at  Les  Peiipliers  were  thus  arranged.  Ev- 
ery morning  each  inhabitant  of  the  Villa  was  free  to 
do  as  he  or  she  liked,  and  generally  the  early  hours 
of  the  day  were  devoted  to  letter-writing,  newspaper- 
reading,  etc.  Oliver  remained  shut  up  in  his  studio 
the  whole  of  the  morning.  In  the  afternoon,  after 
lunch,  the  three  young  people  and  Rip  went  for 
long  walks  in  the  environs,  which  they  thoroughly 
explored  in  every  direction,  while  the  "  mothers " 
rested  in  the  garden  in  the  comfortable  deck  chairs 
or  hammocks,  embroidering,  or  reading,  or  dozing. 
It  was  a  thorough  rest  for  all  the  inhabitants  of  the 
old  house. 

One  day  Oliver  suggested  to  Jacqueline  that  the 
studio  was  quite  ready  for  her,  and  it  was  decided 
between  them  that  she  should  sit  to  him  every  morn- 
ing from  ten  to  twelve.  Sometimes,  though  rarely, 
Nelly  joined  them  in  the  studio,  to  read  the  paper 
aloud  to  them  both,  but  more  often  they  were  left 
alone,  and  Oliver  for  hours  together  rejoiced  in  the 
exclusive  possession  of  Jacqueline.  He  had  decided 
to  paint  her  full-size,  standing  against  the  bare  white 
wall  of  the  studio.  He  insisted  that  she  should  be 
dressed  for  her  portrait  as  she  was  dressed  every  day 


128    THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

in  the  country,  with  a  short  pleated  skirt  of  dark  blue 
serge  and  a  blouse  of  linen  batiste  with  a  turned-down 
collar  and  cuffs  of  simple  embroidery.  It  was  Jacque- 
line in  her  most  modern  incarnation  and,  as  far  as 
was  possible,  divested  of  all  her  femininity,  Jacque- 
line had  at  first  wished  to  be  painted  in  a  ball  gown 
with  a  fan  coquettishly  unfurled  and  roses  in  her  hair, 
in  full  attire  for  conquest.  But  Oliver,  who  knew  how 
to  show  great  determination  in  connection  with  all 
things  pertaining  to  his  art,  insisted  upon  the  particu- 
larly up-to-date  modem  character  of  his  sitter,  which 
he  wished  to  interpret  according  to  his  own  inspira- 
tion. And  partly  because  the  idea  claimed  her  artistic 
taste,  and  partly  also  because  it  appealed  to  her  "  mod- 
iemism,"  Jacqueline  yielded  to  his  persuasion. 

She  made  a  suggestive  picture  as  she  stood  upright 
against  the  bare  wall  of  the  studio  in  her  short  sim- 
ple gown,  perfectly  made  and  perfectly  fitting,  show- 
ing the  slim  lines  of  her  very  modern,  energetic  figure. 
The  skirt  was  cut  short  a  couple  of  inches  from  the 
ground,  revealing  a  very  feminine,  though  character- 
istic, foot  and  ankle,  covered  with  black  silk  stock- 
ings, and  neat,  though  serviceable,  leather  shoes.  The 
regular  pleats  of  her  finely-tucked  blouse  were  drawn 
down  tightly  into  a  broad  band  of  tan  leather,  clasped 
at  the  waist  with  a  golden  buckle,  defining  the  firm, 
yet  delicate  lines  of  her  shoulders  and  bust  and 
straight,  supple  back.  The  soft  rolled-back  collar  and 
upturned  cuffs  revealed  the  perfect  whiteness  of  her 
throat  and  wrists.  At  her  neck  the  collar  was  tied 
with  a  soft  bow  of  black  crepe-de-chine.    Her  hair 


THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE    129 

was  dressed  higH  in  its  shining  curled  coils,  and  her 
wide-brimmed  Panama  straw  hat,  trimmed  with  a 
scarf  of  white  muslin,  was  held  in  her  right  hand. 
Her  left  hand  rested  on  her  hip  in  rather  a  boyish 
curve,  her  chin  was  lifted  at  an  angle  that  suggested 
some  impertinence,  and  there  was  an  air  of  free  de- 
fiance in  her  whole  demeanour  which  Oliver  had  ren- 
dered admirably.  Altogether,  Jacqueline  in  her  atti- 
tude on  the  canvas  presented  a  very  fair  type  of  the 
independent  young  lady  of  her  time. 

"  I  shall  call  this  picture  *  The  Portrait  of  a  modem 
young  French  girl'  when  it  is  finished,"  said  Oliver, 
smiling,  once  during  the  long  solemn  hours  of  a  sit- 
ting. 

Jacqueline  smiled  too,  but  made  no  response.  She 
left  the  pose  and  came  towards  the  painter,  looking  at 
her  own  portrait  from  behind  his  shoulder. 

"  Yes,  it  might  be  called  that,"  she  acquiesced,  but 
made  no  further  remark. 

She  was  thinking  to  herself  how  interesting  it  was 
to  see  one's  self  through  the  eyes  of  another.  That 
the  presentment  of  herself,  seen  through  Oliver's  eyes, 
should  be  this  self-reliant,  wilful  creature  in  such  evi- 
dent rebellion  against  all  authority  and  all  conventional 
ideas,  amused  her  greatly.  And,  by  means  of  his  pre- 
sentment of  her  character,  Jacqueline  was  able  to  see 
more  clearly  into  Oliver's  own  personality.  Hitherto 
she  had  believed  that  he  perceived  only  the  feminine 
side  of  herself,  since  she  had  wilfully  revealed  only 
that  side  to  him.  That  he  should  have  discovered  an- 
other self  in  her  beyond  that  more  evident  and  aggres- 


I30    THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

sive  self,  and  have  represented,  not  only  her  better 
self,  but  also  her  more  intellectual  and  thoughtful  char- 
acter, pleased  and  surprised  her.  The  fact  that  he 
should  have  been  capable  of  looking  deeper  beyond  her 
more  playful  and  coquettish  femininity  did  not  touch 
her  heart,  but  appealed  greatly  to  her  brain,  and  al- 
though she  made  no  remark,  and  indeed  expressed  no 
admiration  of  the  work,  she  respected  Oliver's  instinct, 
and  from  that  hour  began  to  judge  him  in  a  new 
light.  ^ 

During  these  long  seances,  while  Oliver  worked 
and  Jacqueline  sat  motionless,  much  of  the  man's 
character  was  unconsciously  revealed  to  Jacqueline, 
and  each  further  revelation  came  as  a  pleasant  sur- 
prise. Hitherto  she  had  regarded  him  as  merely 
a  rather  sympathetic  young  man,  with  whom  she 
could  flirt  and  amuse  herself.  So  far  Jacqueline  had 
been  inclined  to  treat  all  men  as  mere  passetemps. 
"  Give  me  women  for  true  friendship  and  men  for 
diverting  episodes  "  she  had  said  once  to  Nelly,  who 
did  not  re-echo  her  thoughts,  being  far  too  masculine 
herself  and  finding  that  the  attentions  of  young  men 
were  superfluous  and  most  unnecessarily  futile.  .  .  . 
In  order  to  paint  her  better  self,  Jacqueline  knew  that 
Oliver  had  been  forced  to  seek  deep  down  in  herself 
for  its  expression,  and  as  she  had  only  just  begun  to 
realize  herself,  she  became  still  more  conscious  of  her- 
self by  the  help  of  Oliver's  picture.  Consequently  her 
approval  of  his  insight  strengthened  her  regard  for 
his  opinions,  and  if  she  was  not  yet  subservient  to 
them,  at  least  they  claimed  her  respect. 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE     131 

One  day  during  the  sitting  they  launched  into  a 
conversation  upon  the  history  of  Art,  and  Jacqueline 
— always  inclined  to  believe  herself  a  little  superior  to 
everyone  else  because  she  had  learned  many  things 
which  few  people  learn — was  astonished  to  find  Oliver 
not  only  responsive  to  her  ideas  but  still  fuller  of 
knowledge  and  personal  opinions  upon  the  subject 
than  herself.  Again  she  was  as  delighted  as  she  was 
astonished,  and  when  the  conversation  had  drifted 
into  other  channels,  she  found  that  her  mind  even 
against  her  will  was  reverting  once  more  to  certain 
new  presentations  of  thought  which  Oliver's  conver- 
sation had  suggested  to  her.  She  began  now  to  dis- 
cern Oliver's  true  personality  which  he  had  hitherto 
concealed  beneath  his  extreme  reserve  of  manner. 
Thus  there  grew  up  between  Jacqueline  and  Oliver  a 
new  and  more  intellectual  friendship  that  was  based 
entirely  upon  their  common  mental  interests.  When 
Oliver  began  to  talk  of  Art,  then  Jacqueline,  for  all 
her  culture,  was  obliged  to  take  up  the  attitude  of 
pupil,  for  it  was  very  evident  in  these  discussions  that 
Oliver  was  not  only  a  clever  and  original-minded 
man,  but  also  an  artist  of  individual  views  as  well  as 
great  talent,  with  an  assured  future  before  him. 

"  How  is  it,  Jacqueline,"  asked  Oliver  one  morning 
as  they  were  together  in  the  studio  and  had  been  dis- 
cussing many  things  pertaining  to  life  as  well  as  to 
Art,  "  that  you  manage  your  mother  so  completely  ? 
She  is  a  bright  and  clever  woman  herself,  and  yet  she 
seems  to  have  no  will  but  yours." 

"  It  is  simply  because  of  the  stupid,  stultifying  edu- 


132     THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE 

cation  she  received  in  her  own  youth.  .  .  .  You 
see,  she  was  trained  to  obey — ^to  obey  only — and  never 
to  take  any  personal  initiative  in  anything,  even  in 
opinions.  My  father,  to  whom,  Clemence  has  often 
told  me  she  was  devoted,  directed  all  her  actions,  even 
her  very  thoughts,  until  his  death  released  her  from 
his  dominion.  Afterwards,  when  I  was  a  baby  and 
she  was  alone  with  me,  momentarily  she  raised  her 
courage  by  the  mere  force  of  circumstances,  and  took 
things  in  hand  herself.  But  only  for  a  time,  until  I 
cultivated  a  will  of  my  own.  Since  then  she  has  al- 
ways let  me  lead.  She  not  only  did  this  systematically, 
wishing  to  give  me  an  education  that  should  be  dia- 
metrically opposed  to  her  own  and  so  develop  my  own 
personal  initiative,  but  also  because  she  had  no  real 
will  in  her  to  oppose  to  mine.  And  ever  since  I  have 
taken  the  lead,  she  has  followed." 

"Do  you  remember  your  father,  Jacqueline?" 
"Very  little.  I  was  only  four  years* old  when  he 
died.  But,  strange  to  say,  I  can  never  get  my  mother 
to  speak  to  me  about  him.  Notwithstanding  her  gen- 
tleness and  my  repeated  insistance,  she  refuses  all  al- 
lusion to  him — indeed,  she  seems  numbed  whenever  I 
question  her  about  him.  So  I've  given  it  up.  Some 
day  she  will  perhaps  tell  me  something.  But  even  I 
cannot  drive  her  to  it.  Her  force  of  inertia  on  that 
particular  subject  is  absolute." 

"  There  is  perhaps  some  sadness  connected  with 
your  father's  memory  which  she  does  not  wish  to 
reveal  to  you.  It  would  be  more  merciful  perhaps  not 
to  insist,"  suggested  Oliver. 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    133 

"  Yes,  I  have  often  thought  that,"  repHed  Jacque- 
line in  a  dreamy  tone. 

"You  do  right,  Jacqueline,  to  leave  the  subject 
alone,  if  it  is  painful  to  her.    Don't  you  think  so?" 

" Pauvre  petite  mamanl"  murmured  Jacqueline. 
And  Oliver  saw  in  her  for  one  rapid  instant  a  deeper 
tenderness  than  he  had  ever  thought  Jacqueline  could 
feel. 

A  few  minutes  later  Nelly  came  up  the  small  wind- 
ing staircase  that  led  to  the  top  of  the  tower.  She 
appeared  as  a  herald  announcing  the  arrival  of  the 
"  two  mothers,"  who  had  been  bidden  by  Oliver  to 
view  the  picture  for  the  first  time.  There  had  already 
been  about  twenty  sittings  since  the  picture  had  been 
begun,  and  it  was  now  nearing  completion.  From  the 
first  it  had  been  understood  between  Oliver  and  Jac- 
queline that  the  "mothers"  should  neither  of  them 
be  allowed  to  see  the  picture  before  it  was  consider- 
ably advanced.  "  You  know  the  saying — Children  and 
fools  should  never  be  allowed  to  see  half-finished 
work,"  Jacqueline  had  said  sententiously  to  her 
mother  when  Frangoise  had  begged  to  be  allowed  to 
see  the  first  sketch  which  Oliver  made  in  charcoal  on 
the  immaculate  canvas.  "I  don't  mean  by  that  to 
suggest  that  you  are  either  a  child  or  a  fool,  maman 
cherie — I  would  never  be  so  impertinent.  But  what 
I  do  mean  is  that  one  requires  an  artistic  training  that 
you  have  never  had  to  realize  what  a  picture  may 
promise  to  the  initiated,  during  its  early  stages.  So 
you  shall  not  be  allowed  to  see  it  until  it  is  nearly 
done." 


134    THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

Though  FranQoise  protested,  Jacqueline  was  ob- 
durate, and  declared  she  would  not  sit  at  all  if  the 
picture  was  to  be  seen  by  anyone.  Oliver  upheld 
her  in  this,  and  insisted  that  she  was  right,  for  he 
wished  to  compose  his  own  work  without  any  outside 
influence  or  suggestions.  Thus  had  he  painted  Jac- 
queline as  the  "  modern  maiden  of  France "  entirely 
from  his  own  inspiration  and  exactly  as  he  had  con- 
ceived his  idea  of  her,  in  practical  every-day  dress 
without  finery  or  "  prettiness,"  yet  with  all  the  char- 
acter of  feminine  decision,  self-reliance  and  self-con- 
fidence which  the  contemplation  of  Jacqueline  sug- 
gested to  him.  But  he  put  into  the  picture  something 
more  besides — ^which  the  girl  herself  had  not  yet  per- 
ceived— ^because  she  was  not  yet  prepared  to  perceive 
it. 

When  Frangoise  arrived  in  the  studio,  followed  up 
the  winding  stairs  by  Mrs.  Brent,  she  sank  down  upon 
the  small  green  divan  which  stretched  along  the  south- 
em  wall  with  a  feeling  of  keen  curiosity.  For  a  long 
time  she  gazed  at  the  picture  without  speaking  a 
word.  Quite  ten  minutes  elapsed  before  she  opened 
her  lips. 

"  So  that  is  how  you  see  my  daughter ! "  she  said 
slowly,  turning  to  Oliver,  "  and  that  is  she — as  she 
will  appear  to  the  world  at  large."  For  a  few  mo- 
ments FrauQoise  stood  silent  again.  "  Yes.  I  am  sat- 
isfied. You  have  shown  her  just  as  I  wanted  her  to 
be.  A  proud,  self-reliant  female  creature,,  with  all 
the  real  feminine  qualities  existent  in  her  but  still 
veiled  or  hidden  by  her  rather  boyish  exterior.    The 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE     135 

practical,  simple  dress — comfortable  rather  than  ele- 
gant— the  energetic,  capable-looking  hands,  the  de- 
fiant set  of  the  head  and  shoulders — yes  .  .  .'* 
As  she  spoke  she  gazed  upon  the  picture  with  a  ten- 
der expression.  "  Yes,  but  it  is  still  my  baby  Jacque- 
line's face  though,  with  its  soft  brown  eyes,  now  so 
conscious  of  the  value  of  her  own  self,  with  the  sweet 
baby  mouth — now  so  firm  and  set  with  human  con- 
scious will — with  the  fair  baby  curls  that  used  to  be 
so  rebellious,  now  conquered  into  order  and  made 
submissive  to  hairpins  and  combs.  .  .  .  And  yet! 
beneath  that  outward  presentment  of  modern  con- 
scious womanhood,  the  soul  of  my  baby  Jacqueline 
still  lives!" 

FranQoise  had  tears  in  her  eyes  as  she  spoke.  She 
drew  Jacqueline  near  to  her.  But  Jacqueline,  with 
false  shame  and  fearing  the  mockery  of  Nelly  who 
ridiculed  all  sentiment,  did  not  dare  show  any  of  the 
sudden  new  tenderness  towards  her  mother  which  her 
recent  conversation  with  Oliver  had  evoked. 

She  eluded  her  mother's  caress. 

"  But,  maman  cherie,  I  am  what  I  am!  I  am  my- 
self. I  am  entirely  modern!  You  wished  me  to  be 
so — you  wished  me  to  rise  in  revolt  at  all  coercion; 
you  wished  me  to  have  a  mind  and  a  will  of  my  own. 
You  did  not  intend  that  I  should  build  up  my  soul 
upon  the  basis  of  meek  humility.  You  wished  the 
spirit  of  the  conqueror,  not  of  the  conquered  to  in- 
spire me!  Am  I  not  the  complete  achievemeni  of  the 
education  you  have  given  me?" 

"Yes,  Jacqueline,  you  are  the  living  epitome  of 


136    THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

my  own  revolt  and,  in  looking  upon  your  picture  now, 
I  see  before  me  the  result  of  my  own  work."  There 
was  a  slight  pause  and  Frangoise,  her  gaze  still  fixed 
upon  the  picture,  as  if  she  were  apostrophising  it, 
continued :  "  Above  all,  I  wanted  you  otherwise  than 
I  am.  That  is  why  I  made  your  upbringing  the  very 
antithesis  of  my  own.  I  am  not  yet  sure  whether 
your  independence  will  make  your  happiness.  But  I 
sincerely  hope  that  it  will.  I  wanted  to  make  you 
capable  of  defending  yourself  and  your  own  rights. 
I  wished  you  to  develop  your  own  individuality.  I 
trained  you  not  to  be  a  victim  of  others.  And  if,  in 
gaining  self-reliance  and  self-development,  you  have 
won  neither  patience,  nor  tenderness,  nor  resignation 
— I  alone  am  the  one  to  blame — if  blame  there  be — 
and  not  you,  my  darling,  not  you!" 

Jacqueline  was  silent,  but  she  looked  at  Frangoise 
in  astonishment.  She  had  never  believed  her  mother 
to  be  anything  of  a  psychologist,  and  such  words  as 
these,  coming  from  Frangoise  were  a  revelation  to  her 
daughter. 

Mrs.  Brent  and  Oliver  and  Nelly  looked  upon  this 
unusual  scene  and  listened  to  this  strange  outburst 
of  Frangoise  in  silence,  Oliver  alone  understanding 
what  it  signified. 

"  But  I  am  not  only  the  product  of  your  training, 
mother.  I  am  also  the  result  of  the  teachings  of  my 
own  times.  No  one  can  avoid  being  touched  by  the 
spirit  of  one's  own  generation.  The  women  of  to- 
day wish  to  live  their  own  lives,  to  seek  out  and  find 
their  own  happiness  for  themselves.    They  are  not 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE     137 

content  to  accept  the  destiny  that  others  have  ordained 
for  them,  as  did  the  women  of  your  day." 

"You  are  right,  JacqueHne.  We  were  taught  a 
resignation  which  you  do  not  know." 

"  Nor  wish  to  know,  mother — since  it  would  dimin- 
ish our  own  individuahty.  But  we  have  developed 
a  sense  of  personal  responsibility  which  you  never 
dreamt  of." 

FrauQoise  smiled — the  deep,  sad  smile  of  the  woman 
who  has  learnt  life — not  in  books,  but  from  cruel  ex- 
perience. 

"  There  is  one  thing  you  miss  so  far,  you  modem 
girls,  my  Jacqueline,  and  that  is  the  true  knowledge 
which  is  acquired  by  testing  life.  That,  alas !  is  only 
gained  by  experience!  You  will  all  of  you,  alas!  yet 
have  to  bow  your  heads  in  sorrow  before  you  will 
have  quite  understood  the  lesson  that  only  life  itself 
can  teach.  .  .  .  You  will  find,  as  you  grow  older, 
that  you  will  not  always  be  able  to  subject  circum- 
stances to  your  own  individual  will." 

"  I  shall  always  do  what  I  zvill,  mother.  The 
strong  coerce  circumstances.  Only  the  weak  are 
crushed  by  them." 

"  Not  always,  Jacqueline — not  always.  You  think 
that  now  because  you  are  very  young  and  untried. 
You  will  not  always  do  what  you  will*  but  what  you 
can.  Believe  me,  dearest.  I  am  older  than  you.  I 
possess  knowledge  which  no  books  and  no  teacher 
can  ever  impart  to  you^ — only  life  itself." 

"  It  is  by  continually  opposing  them  with  their  su- 
perior experience  that  so  many  mothers  destroy  all 


138    THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

spirit  of  initiative  in  their  children's  minds — and  so 
paralyse  all  their  efforts  towards  individual  action," 
replied  Jacqueline  mercilessly.  "I  have  noticed  that 
so  often  among  the  mothers  of  my  schoolmates  at  the 
Lycee." 

"  At  least  you  cannot  reproach  me  for  having  acted 
so,  Jacqueline  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  maman  cherie!    At  least  not  entirely!  " 

Frangoise  smiled  again,  but  her  eyes  never  left  the 
picture  as  she  spoke.  Again  she  appeared  to  address 
herself  rather  to  the  epitomized  Jacqueline  which 
Oliver's  brush  had  painted  than  to  the  living  Jacque- 
line at  her  side. 

"You  will  see,  Jacqueline,  you  will  see  later  on 
for  yourself,  and  then  you  will  admit  that  personal 
proof  and  test  are  alone  of  real  value  in  solving  the 
larger  problems  of  life.  .  .  .  God  knows  that 
I  do  not  desire  sorrow  for  you.  But  when  it  comes 
to  you,  alas !  my  dear,  for  you  will  not  escape  it — ^we 
none  of  us  do! — ^then  you  will  understand  what  I 
mean  when  I  tell  you  now  that  it  is  invaluable." 

"  Well ! "  broke  in  Nelly  here  with  some  petulance, 
"  when  you  have  done  talking,  you  two,  and  furnish- 
ing divers  comparisons  between  the  old  education  and 
the  new,  perhaps  Madame  Reville  will  deign  to  tell 
Oliver  what  she  thinks  of  his  work! " 

"  Oliver  knows  what  I  think.    Haven't  I  been  tell- 
ing him  all  this  time?"  said  Frangoise,  looking  up 
and  meeting  Oliver's  blue  eyes.     "Oliver  knows  my 
opinion  quite  well.     Don't  you,  Oliver?" 
"Yes,  madame,  I  understand  all  your  criticisms — 


THE    EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE     139 

and  they  are  a  delight  to  me.  Thank  you,"  he  re- 
pHed  gravely,  as  his  eyes  rested  a  moment  on  hers. 
"Come,  let  us  all  go  in  to  dejeuner."  And  he  set 
aside  his  brushes  and  palette  and  rose  to  leave  the 
studio. 

"But  I've  not  said  my  say  yet,"  broke  in  Mrs. 
Brent  in  an  aggrieved  tone. 

"No,  poor  dear  aunt,"  said  Oliver,  patting  the 
lady  on  her  broad  back.  "No,  poor  aunt,  that's 
true.    Well,  well,  say  it  now !  " 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Brent,  rising  from  the  divan 
where  she  had  fallen  panting  after  the  walk  up  the 
steep  stairs,  "  well,  I  like  the  picture  very  much  in- 
deed, and  the  way  you  have  painted  the  embroidery 
at  the  wrists  is  quite  wonderful.  The  hat  is  most 
lifelike  too!" 

Oliver  laughed  outright,  and  Jacqueline  and  Nelly 
joined  in  the  laugh  unrestrainedly. 

"Dear  aunt,"  said  Oliver,  patting  her  affection- 
ately on  the  back  again,  "you  are  the  best  and  kind- 
est of  all  critics.  You  say  the  very  nicest  things,  and 
you  at  least  do  not  worry  yourself  with  moot  ques- 
tions of  education  or  character,  or  anything  else. 
You  are  quite  right,  dear  auntie.  The  hat  is  life- 
like, and  now  " — tucking  his  arm  in  his  aunt's  and 
pushing  her  gently  forward,  "go  down  all  of  you  to 
lunch.  I  heard  Clemence  crying  out  that  sacred  sen- 
tence— ' Le  dejeuner  est  servi' — long  ago." 

Then  the  two  girls  and  Mrs.  Brent  began  descend- 
ing the  twisted  stairs  once  more,  though  Oliver  re- 
mained behind  to  put  away  his  things,  while  Fran- 


I40     THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE 

Qoise  lingered  a  moment  longer  in  front  of  Jacque- 
line's picture. 

When  they  were  alone  together  and  Frangoise  had 
remained  some  time  before  the  canvas  in  silent  con- 
templation, she  turned  to  Oliver. 

"My  dear  boy,"  she  said,  "I  am  deeply  touched 
• — ^more  indeed  than  I  can  tell  you.  You  have  pre- 
sented to  us  more  than  the  outward  epitome  of  Jac- 
queline's mind  and  character.  For,  not  only  have 
you  shown  me  here  the  girl  who  is  the  result  of  my 
training,  but  .  .  ."  and  Frangoise  looked  again 
at  the  face  of  the  picture  and  heaved  a  sigh. 

Oliver  came  up  towards  her,  and  affectionately,  rev- 
erently, laid  his  hand  on  her  arm  and  then  forced 
her  to  look  up  and  meet  his  glance. 

"But— what?" 

"  Ah,  you  know  well  what  I  mean,  Oliver,  dear 
boy!  Before  the  others,  before  Jacqueline  herself  I 
did  not  wish  to  say  all  that  your  portrait  of  my  child 
suggested  to  me     .     .     ." 

"Say  what  you  think  now  nevertheless,  dear  ma- 
dame,"  Oliver  pleaded  encouragingly. 

"  You  have  done  more  than  shown  her  personality 
and  her  character.  You  have  put  into  her  glance 
what  is  not  yet  there,"  said  Frangoise.  "  Though 
there  is  all  her  evasive,  whimsical  femininity  on  her 
smiling  lips  and  in  her  palpitating  nostrils,  there  is 
more  than  that.  Into  her  eyes  you  have  put  the  truer, 
deeper  soul  of  her  womanhood.  .  .  .  Alas!  will 
it  ever  come  to  her?" 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE     141 

Oliver  was  silent  a  moment  as  Frangoise  and  he 
stood  together  side  by  side  before  the  picture. 

"It  may  come  to  her,"  said  Ohver  at  last,  speak- 
ing very  slowly  with  emphasis  and  as  if  weighing 
his  words.  "  It  may  come  to  her  ...  I  hope  it 
will.  But,  as  you  suggested  just  now,  like  the  neces- 
sary knowledge  and  understanding  of  life,  it  can  only 
be  wrung  out  of  human  tears.  ...  I  am  afraid 
you  have  made  her  too  happy.  You  have  kept  all 
knowledge  of  sorrow  and  of  pain  from  her.  You  have 
cultivated  her  mind  alone — perhaps  even  at  the  ex- 
pense of  her  heart.  .  .  .  Who  can  say  whether 
you  have  been  right?  The  future  itself  alone  will 
decide  that.  ,  .  .  The  truth  is,  she  is  not  awake 
yet,  and  in  my  picture  I  have  shown  her  as  she  will 
be  when  she  is  awake.  Don't  you  see,  dear  Madame 
Reville?" 

Frangoise's  eyes  were  filled  with  tears. 

"Yes,  dear  Oliver,  I  see  that  you  understand  her 
—even  as  I  do." 

"That,"  said  Oliver,  gently  and  gravely,  "that 
is  because  I  love  her  too." 

Frangoise  made  no  answer,  but  dried  her  tears. 
Then  she  put  her  hand  on  Oliver's  shoulder  and  to- 
gether they  turned  and  went  down  the  winding  stairs 
to  join  the  others. 


CHAPTER   IX 

That    same   afternoon    Oliver   proposed    that   they 
should  go  for  a  picnic  in  the  forest  of  Marly. 

At  first  the  "mothers"  demurred, 

"It  would  be  so  difficult  to  arrange,"  said  Fran- 
goise. 

"And  it  would  be  such  a  lot  of  trouble,"  quoth 
Mrs.  Brent. 

"  And  you'll  all  get  rheumatism  after  sitting  down 
on  the  damp  grass — ^and  I  should  have  to  nurse  you ! " 
wailed  Clemence,  who  was  present.  The  truth  was 
that  the  lazy  old  woman  did  not  like  the  trouble  of 
packing  the  picnic  basket. 

"Oh,  nothing  of  the  kind! "  cried  Jacqueline,  while 
Nelly  dismissed  Clemence's  objections  with  a  shrug 
of  her  shoulders. 

Of  course  the  young  people  won  the  day. 

"  Instead  of  having  tea  at  five  o'clock  and  a  regu- 
lar meat  meal  at  eight,  we'll  combine  the  two,"  said 
Jacqueline. 

"  Then  we'd  better  take  my  tea-basket  and  call  it 
a  high  tea,"  proposed  Nelly. 

So  Jacqueline  and  Nelly,  with  the  grumbling  help 
of  Clemence,  filled  the  wickerwork  receptacle  with  a 
luxurious  and  plentiful  meal  of  cold  roast  beef,  ham, 
hard-boiled  eggs,  fruit  and  cheese,  and  an  excellent 
salad  which  they  packed  ready-dressed  into  a  deep 

142 


THE    EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE     143 

stone  pot.  They  filled  a  similar  jar  with  a  compote 
of  raspberries  and  currants,  and  filled  the  milk  bottle, 
the  sugar-box,  and  the  tea-box.  Then  they  declared 
themselves  ready  to  confront  the  wildest  pangs  of 
hunger. 

"  We  can  get  some  water  to  make  the  tea  from  the 
first  keeper  at  the  Grille  Royale,"  said  Oliver. 

"  Or  from  the  spring  in  the  park,  which  will  be 
better  still,"  put  in  Jacqueline,  drawing  on  her  gloves. 

At  last  all  was  ready,  and  the  younger  people  of  the 
community  and  Rip  in  attendance  left  "  Les  Peu- 
pliers"  at  five  o'clock  with  the  basket.  It  was  ar- 
ranged that  Oliver  should  carry  it  while  the  girls  took 
charge  of  the  rugs. 

It  was  a  gloriously  beautiful  afternoon  as  they 
passed  along  the  Route  du  Camp  which  skirts  the 
green  glades  of  the  Bois  Brule.  The  hawthorn  hedges 
edging  the  road  on  one  side  were  mingled  with  odor- 
ous honeysuckle  now  in  full  bloom,  and  the  wild  rose 
bushes  ran  in  intricate  confusion  along  the  outskirts 
of  the  wood  on  the  other  side. 

They  tarried  awhile  in  the  golden  cornfield  that  sepa- 
rates the  Versailles  from  the  Louveciennes  road,  for 
Oliver  to  rest,  and  soon  they  found  themselves  at  the 
Grille  Royale  of  the  park  of  Marly.  Here,  alas !  they 
perceived  the  first  dilapidations  of  this  formerly  mag- 
nificent domain  that  had  once  held  the  fairest  jewel 
among  the  Eighteenth  Century  castles  of  France. 
Built  together  with  the  castle  itself  in  1676,  the  Grille 
Royale,  surmounted  by  vases  sculptured  by  Jouvenet, 
had  been  furnished  with  magnificent  iron  gates,  the 


144     THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE 

design  of  which  was  as  delicate  as  lacework.  But 
the  aperture  of  the  Grille  itself  had  been  narrowed 
and  the  gates  replaced  by  common  wooden  doors. 
Luckily,  some  compassionate  hand  had  planted  a 
climbing  rose-tree  over  the  dilapidated  stonework  of 
the  portals,  and  this  somewhat  hid  the  ravages 
wrought  by  the  eager,  ruthless  hands  of  man  and  of 
time. 

Rarely  in  history  has  there  been  so  sad  a  destiny 
as  that  of  the  Chateau  of  Marly,  for  of  all  its  beauty, 
luxury  and  art,  nothing  now  remains  but  a  few  lichen- 
covered  stones.  The  wide,  semi-circular  space  beyond 
the  entrance  that  was  once  a  noble  Cour  d'Honneur 
was  now  transformed  into  a  prosperous  farmyard 
wherein  ducks  and  geese  strutted  about  in  proud  pos- 
session of  the  lawns  that  royal  feet  once  had  trod. 
At  the  left  side  of  the  gate,  between  two  fine  old  trees, 
a  swing  had  been  put  up  for  the  farmer's  children, 
who  were  now  enjoying  themselves  swinging  high  to 
and  fro  on  the  very  spot  where  the  Garde  d'Honneur 
had  once  presented  arms  to  the  royal  cortege  of  "le 
'Roi  Soleil" 

It  is  evident  that  the  infuriated  populace  of  the 
Revolution,  must  have  taken  a  savage  joy  in  not  only 
destroying  but  in  actually  defacing  both  the  architect- 
ural and  artistic  treasures  of  the  royal  domain,  for 
even  the  broken  remains  of  gateways,  terraces,  and 
fountains  have  been  wilfully  crushed  and  ground 
into  humility  to  the  earth.  It  is  pitiful  to  contem- 
plate the  ruins  and  utter  desolation  of  what  was 
once  so  fair,  so  brilliant  a  spot.     But  Nature  her- 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    145 

self,  less  cruel  than  Humanity,  has  shown  here  some 
tender  pity.  For  over  the  ruined  remains  of  the  fine 
porches  or  gateways  of  proud  pilasters  and  lofty  ter- 
races which  are  still  to  be  found  in  almost  every  spot 
of  the  royal  grounds,  she  has  mercifully  thrown  her 
fairylike  mantle  of  leaf  and  flower  and  fern  and 
grass,  thus  covering  the  shame  of  man's  ruthless 
handiwork. 

From  the  Grille  Royale  our  group  of  young  people, 
well  content  with  themselves  though  awed  into  si- 
lence by  the  splendid  sadness  of  the  ruined  beauty 
around  them,  followed  the  wide,  stone-flagged  road 
that  led  to  the  remains  of  the  old  castle  walls,  be- 
tween the  crumbling  skeletons  of  once  proud  and 
high  terraces,  now  clothed  with  flowering  brambles 
and  wild  clematis. 

Soon  they  arrived  on  the  site  of  the  castle,  which 
formerly  stood  a  fine  mass  forty-two  metres  square 
on  the  spot  through  which  the  road  now  passes.  The 
bare  of  its  wide  walls  is  still  distinguishable,  forming 
a  ridge  about  a  foot  high  that  rises  from  the  thick  soft 
grass.  Jacqueline,  who  was  walking  on  a  little  in 
front  of  her  friends — suddenly  recognizing  the  spot 
— she  had  been  reading  the  history  of  Marly  quite 
recently — ^begged  that  the  famous  site  should  be 
chosen  for  the  spreading  of  their  picnic  meal. 

The  view  was  so  beautiful  from  where  they  stood 
and  the  day  so  peaceful  and  bright  that  Jacqueline, 
physically  tired  and  full  of  memories  of  the  histor- 
ical spot  upon  which  their  feet  were  now  set,  let  Nelly 
busy  herself  with  the  tea-basket  and  sank  down  upon 


146    THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

the  broad  ridge  of  the  crumbling  walls.  She  could 
not  refrain  from  allowing  her  thoughts  to  wander 
back  to  olden  times,  imagining  to  herself  what  this 
particular  spot  had  been  like  when  the  three  succes- 
sive and  brilliant  courts  and  three  consecutives  Kings 
of  France  had  lived  here  in  splendour.  She  saw  pass 
before  her  in  imagination  along  the  grassy  sward 
that  now  covered  the  wide  lofty  terraces  whose  fine 
proportions  were  still  undisguised,  the  graceful  forms 
of  the  dainty  Madame  de  Pompadour,  the  frivolous 
Madame  du  Barry,  the  practical-minded  Madame  de 
Maintenon,  who  from  this  spot  had  superintended  the 
building  of  her  famous  aristocratic  college  for  Women 
at  St.  Cyr  close  by.  She  evoked,  too,  the  image  of 
that  most  ill-fated  of  all  the  Marly  beauties — Queen 
Marie  Antoinette — who  last  of  all  had  gazed  through 
the  high  windows  of  the  great  Salon  d'Honneur,  dec- 
orated with  the  finest  paintings  and  sculptures  of  the 
time — and  had  watched  the  sun  go  down  in  the  sky 
in  the  blue  distances  of  St.  Germain  beyond,  that  lay 
stretched  out  in  the  valley  of  the  Seine  before  the 
castle,  as  she  herself — ^Jacqueline  Reville — was  now 
doing. 

Jacqueline,  still  as  if  in  a  dream,  lived  for  a  few 
minutes  back  in  the  past.  In  imagination  she  peopled 
the  fine  avenue  around  with  dainty  court  ladies  at- 
tended by  their  be-je welled  and  be-laced  cavaliers, 
walking  beneath  the  deep  shadows  of  the  leafage.  It 
was  hard  to  believe  that  once  in  the  wide  empty  grass- 
covered  spaces  that  now  flank  the  ruins  of  the  castle 
rose  on  both  sides  six  pavilions — twelve  in  all — which 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE     147 

were  devoted  to  the  use  of  the  courtiers  and  attend- 
ants of  the  King,  and  were  as  richly  adorned  as  the 
castle  itself. 

"O,  Jacqueline,  do  leave  off  your  dreaming  and 
come  and  help  us  with  the  tea ! "  cried  Nelly's  petulant 
voice  at  last  breaking  ruthlessly  in  upon  Jacqueline's 
reverie,  and  Jacqueline,  reluctantly  allowing  her  dream 
of  splendour  to  fade  away,  turned  her  attention  to  the 
tea-basket  at  her  feet,  from  which  cups,  forks,  spoons 
and  plates  had  been  extracted  without  order  and  placed 
along  the  crumbling  stonework  of  the  old  walls. 

Then  they  spread  out  the  feast  on  a  table-cloth 
which  had  been  folded  over  the  top  of  the  basket  just 
beneath  the  lid,  and,  using  the  low  ruined  walls  as 
temporary  shelves  for  their  pots  and  dishes,  set  to 
making  the  tea  on  the  spirit  lamp  set  on  the  spot  that 
had  once  been  the  threshold  of  the  grand  salon  d'hon- 
neiir.  For  the  "mothers"  now  hove  in  sight.  They 
were  carefully  descending  the  steep  stone-flagged 
slope  that  led  from  the  Grille  Royale — Mrs.  Brent 
walking  with  mincing,  careful  steps,  and  Frangoise 
with  her  light  and  graceful  tread. 

When  the  "  mothers  "  were  at  last  installed  on  the 
low  walls  with  rugs  doubled  beneath  them  as  cushions, 
the  young  folk  stretched  themselves  around  them  on 
the  grass,  and  the  merry  meal  began.  The  table-cloth 
was  held  down  with  four  stones  taken  from  the  crum- 
bling ruins,  and  in  the  centre  Nelly,  who  was  de- 
termined to  decorate  the  meal  as  befitted  the  occasion, 
had  stuck  a  bunch  of  bramble  and  bluebells  into  one 
of  the  water  bottles  and  placed  it  in  the  centre  of  the 


148     THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

cloth,  Jacqueline  and  Oliver  seated  at  the  comer 
furthest  removed  from  the  wall,  could  not  refrain 
from  gazing  with  delight  upon  the  fair  view  before 
them.  From  time  to  time  they  paused  in  their  meal 
to  contemplate  some  passing  train  rushing  like  an  ani- 
mated black  snake  across  the  lace-like  iron  railway 
bridge  that  spanned  the  distant  valley,  a  puff  of  blue 
smoke  seemingly  issuing  forth  from  its  head.  Right 
in  front  of  them  and  immediately  at  their  feet, 
stretched  the  hollow  plain  which  once  had  been  the 
famous  artificial  lake  and  where  now  amid  its  numer- 
our  grass-covered  depressions  where  formerly  bright 
fountains  and  minor  ponds  had  shone  in  the  bright 
sunlight  a  single  tiny  pool  of  still  blue  water  alone  re- 
mained as  a  witness  to  the  once  magnificent  aquatic 
display  that  had  made  the  grounds  of  Marly  so  fa- 
mous. Now  alas!  on  its  edges  were  two  village 
women  washing  their  family  linen  while  around  them 
grazing  peacefully  in  the  early  evening's  light  were 
a  few  horses  and  donkeys. 

But  Jacqueline  and  Oliver  had  been  forced  to  re- 
linquish their  day-dreaming  contemplation  of  the 
suggestive  scene  before  them,  by  Nelly's  reiteration. 

"  You  might  at  least  communicate  some  of  your 
knowledge  of  this  place  to  us  benighted  and  ignorant 
folk,'*  she  said  as  she  waved  a  great  slice  of  bread 
and  jam  that  she  had  been  munching  with  her  des- 
sert, in  the  direction  of  the  grassy  hollows  beyond. 

"  Certainly,"  said  Jacqueline.  "  I  am  quite  willing 
to  tell  you  all  I  know  myself.  The  long,  broad  walk 
there,"  pointing  to  the  sward  at  their  feet,  "  was  once 
the  principal  terrace.    From  it  there  were  wide  mar- 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE     149 

ble  steps  that  led  to  another  lower  terrace,  you  can 
see  its  long  level  surface  there,'*  and  she  pointed  with 
her  fruit- fork  to  the  second  straight  lawn  that  lay 
beneath  the  abrupt  slope  where  once  the  marble  steps 
had  been.  At  each  end  of  this,  was  a  perfectly  circu- 
lar depression  that  looked  like  a  basin  scooped  out  of 
the  turf. 

"Those  hollows  as  well  as  those  further  on — on 
the  third  terrace — must  have  held  the  four  fountains 
known  as  the  Quatre  Gerbes.  In  the  larger,  deeper 
hollows  further  on  still  were  the  famous  Grand  Jet, 
Nappe  and  Grosse  Gerbe.  The  spring  of  water  that 
fed  them  is  still  in  existence  under  the  trees  yonder 
to  the  right."    And  she  pointed  again. 

Nelly  rose  and  went  to  the  edge  of  the  first  ter- 
race, peering  intently  down  over  the  steep  declivity 
that  led  to  the  second.  The  modern  authorities  of 
the  commune  of  Marly  had  prudently  though  un- 
picturesquely  railed  in  the  edges  of  each  terrace  with 
wire  netting  to  prevent  accidents. 

"  In  the  far  distance,  beyond  the  large  square  de- 
pression where  the  women  are  washing,  I  can  discern 
a  sort  of  grey  stone  construction.  What  is  that?" 
called  out  Nelly. 

Jacqueline  rose,  too,  now  with  her  table  napkin 
in  her  hand  and  joined  her  friend  on  the  green  lawn 
of  the  terrace.    Oliver  followed  in  her  wake. 

"  That's  the  '  abreuvoir '  or  horse  pond.  I  say  %s 
because  of  all  the  edifices  of  Marly  that  is  all  that  now 
remains  almost  intact.  It's  a  pity  we  can't  see  it  well 
from  here.  I've  been  shown  a  picture  of  it  and  it's 
quite  worth  a  special  visit.     Another  day  we  can  go 


I50    THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE 

down  through  the  Allee  du  Coeur  Volant  which  runs 
from  just  outside  the  Grille  Royale  to  the  edge  of 
the  '  abreuvoir '  and  inspect  it  for  ourselves.     . 
It  is  built  of  grey  stone  considerably  mellowed  down 
with  lichen  growth  and  the  patina  of  age." 

"  Have  the  Chevaux  de  Marly  that  stand  on  the  top 
of  the  Champs  Elysees — the  Place  de  la  Concorde — 
anything  to  do  with  this  particular  spot  of  Marly?" 
asked  Oliver,  speaking  almost  for  the  first  time.  He 
too  was  profoundly  interested  in  the  history  of  this 
beautiful  spot. 

"  Of  course,"  said  Jacqueline,  smiling.  "  I  thought 
all  Parisians  knew  that!  They  formed  the  group 
of  horses  sculptured  by  Costou  to  stand  at  the  top  of 
the  '  abreuvoir/  .  .  .  It  is  said  that  the  infuriated 
population  of  Marly  were  about  to  demolish  that  fine 
work  of  art  too,  but  luckily  it  was  saved  by- the  Revo- 
lutionary Committee  itself,  who  gave  orders  that  the 
whole  piece  of  sculpture  should  be  effectually  pro- 
tected by  a  strong  wooden  case  nailed  down  over  it. 
It  was  thus  removed  to  Paris,  and  afterwards  the 
groups  of  horses  were  placed  on  either  side  of  the 
great  avenue." 

"  How  interesting  all  this  is !  And  how  clever  you 
are  to  know  it  all  so  well ! "  exclaimed  Nelly  for  once 
subdued  and  awed  into  comparative  attention.  Then 
turning  right  round  in  the  opposite  direction  she 
asked : 

"  What  is  that  deep  slope  of  lawn  right  behind  the 
castle  surrounded  on  both  sides  by  thick  rows  of 
trees?" 


THE    EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE     151 

"  I  think  that  that  must  be  where  the  old  cascade 
formerly  was,"  replied  Jacqueline.  "  It  was  described 
as  being  close  to  the  castle.  There  were  about  sixty- 
red  marble  polished  slabs  set  in  gradation  down  the 
slope  over  which  the  water  fell  *  en  chute.'  But  even 
in  the  time  of  Louis  XVI.  and  some  years  before  the 
Revolution,  the  expense  of  bringing  the  water  to  feed 
the  cascade  was  so  great  that  the  politicans  of  the 
time  refused  the  necessary  credit  to  the  King's 
budget.  So  the  waterfall  was  suppressed  and  the 
slabs  of  marble  carried  away  to  Paris  where  they 
were  utilised  to  repair  the  nave  of  the  Church  of  St. 

Sulpice." 

Here  Oliver  interrupted  Jacqueline's  explanations. 

"I  see  the  'mothers'  making  frantic  signs  to  us 
to  go  back  and  boil  up  some  fresh  tea !  "  And  as  the 
two  girls  and  young  man  turned  back  to  cross  the  ter- 
race he  slipped  his  arm  affectionately  and  fraternally 
through  Jacqueline's  and  remarked  in  tender  mock- 
ery: 

"  My  dear  friend,  I  am  so  happy  to  think  that  we 
need  have  no  fears  for  your  future.  .  .  .  It  is 
quite  provided  for.  ...  All  other  things  failing, 
you'll  make  an  excellent  guide!" 

Jacqueline  smiled  but  made  no  answer. 

And  the  three  settled  down  once  more  at  the  feet 
of  the  "  mothers."  As  the  second  brew  of  tea  was  in 
progress  which  Nelly  laughingly  declared  must  serve 
them  for  cafe  noir,  a  cyclist  passed  by  behind  them 
on  the  road. 

"Hulloa!"  cried  Oliver,  "I  seem  to  know  that 


rS2     THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

figure.  .  .  .  Yes!  I  thought  so!  Why — it's 
Jerome  d'Ablis!" 

"Jerome  d'Ablis!"  cried  Nelly,  her  eyes  in  the 
direction  of  the  speeding  figure — "  so  it  is!  Call  out 
to  him,  Oliver,  and  tell  him  to  come  and  join  us.  It 
will  be  sport !  " 

As  Oliver,  who  had  risen  abruptly,  was  running 
across  the  grass  towards  his  friend,  Mrs.  Brent  ex- 
plained to  Frangoise  and  her  daughter  that  Jerome 
was  a  great  friend  of  Oliver's,  whom  he  had  known 
almost  from  boyhood,  when  Oliver  had  lived  with  the 
Lerouge  family.  He  was  an  amateur  artist,  as  well 
as  an  attache  at  the  Foreign  Affairs,  and  had  a  studio 
next  door  to  Oliver's  in  the  Quartier. 

It  was  only  when  Oliver  was  close  up  to  him  that 
his  friend  recognized  him. 

"Tiens! — Brent!  En  voild  une  bonne  surprise!" 
and  the  young  man,  jumping  lightly  off  his  bicycle, 
came  towards  the  merry  group,  cap  in  hand. 

"  Let  me  introduce  my  friend,  Jerome  d'Ablis,  to 
you,"  said  Oliver,  leading  him  toward  Frangoise  after 
the  young  man  had  been  cordially  welcomed  by  Mrs. 
John  Brent  and  Nelly.  "Madame  Reville  and  her 
daughter  are  very  dear  friends  of  ours.  We  are  shar- 
ing a  cottage  here  together  for  the  summer,"  he 
added,  addressing  himself  to  Jerome. 

Jerome  bowed  with  stiff  and  rather  ceremonious 
grace  as  Oliver  introduced  him.  He  was  a  fine-look- 
ing young  man  with  dark  curly  hair  and  brown-green- 
ish eyes.  His  even  white  teeth  gleamed  beneath  a 
very  carefully  trimmed  moustache  each  time  he  smiled, 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE     153 

which  was  often — for  he  looked  merry  and  good- 
natured,  and  had  the  graceful,  social  manners  of  the 
young  Frenchman  of  his  class  and  education. 

"  And  what  are  you  doing  out  here?  "  asked  Oliver. 
He  of  course  now  spoke  in  French. 

"  Well,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  mon  cher,  I  was  hav- 
ing a  solitary  ride  on  my  bicycle  and  have  got  lost! 
I  was  making  for  Marly  to  get  a  meal  and  take  the 
train  back  to  Paris." 

"Why,  it's  nearly  eight  o'clock  now!"  chimed  in 
good  Mrs.  Brent  in  her  atrocious  but  often  pictur- 
esque French.  "Poor  lad!  He  must  be  hungry  if 
he's  been  on  his  wheel  all  the  afternoon.  Haven't  you 
something  left  in  that  basket,  Nelly?" 

Jerome  looked  longingly  at  the  basket  and  at  the 
remains  of  the  meal  spread  out  in  confusion  on  the 
white  cloth.  But  with  characteristic  French  discre- 
tion, which  does  not  understand  the  spontaneous  sim- 
plicity of  English  people  when  they  ask  a  passing 
friend  to  share  a  meal,  he  excused  himself. 

"  O,  madame,  you  are  too  kind !  I  do  not  wish 
to  trespass  on  your  goodness." 

"  Nonsense — nonsense,  you  do  not  trespass  at  all !  " 
said  Nelly.  "On  the  contrary,  there's  still  plenty  to 
eat  and  you  are  most  welcome.  Look  here ! "  and  she 
held  up  the  articles  as  she  spoke,  "  here^s  a  fine 
slice  of  ham,  some  beef,  some  bread  and  cheese,  and 
one  hard  egg,  besides  a  little  fruit.  With  a  cup  of 
hot  tea,  that  might  do  duty  for  a  meal,  if  you  will  ac- 
cept it." 

"Do  duty  for  a  meal!"  echoed  Jerome.     "Why. 


154    THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

Sardanapalus    himself   couldn't   have   wished    for  a 
better ! " 

"  Then  come  along,  Jerome,"  cried  Oliver,  thrusting 
his  arm  through  that  of  his  friend.  "You  must  be 
tired.  Sit  down  here,"  and  he  pushed  Jerome  down 
on  the  grass  at  the  feet  of  Madame  Reville  and  Mrs. 
Brent. 

"  The  tea's  just  ready,"  cried  Nelly. 

So  Jerome,  his  bicycle  lying  on  the  curb  beside  him, 
was  added  to  the  merry  party. 

Jacqueline,  who  had  hardly  spoken  to  the  young 
man,  now  helped  her  friend  Nelly  in  plying  him  with 
all  the  dainty  remnants  that  were  still  in  the  basket. 
It  was  she  who  drew  a  whole  large  spoonful  of  the 
tomato  salad  from  the  depths  of  the  stone  jar.  This 
was  turned  out  on  to  Jerome's  plate,  and  he  ate  up 
everything  they  gave  him  heartily.  Soon  the  tea  was 
finished  and  the  basket,  now  quite  empty,  repacked, 
and  the  two  young  men  drew  out  their  cigarettes, 
while  the  fuller-toned  colours  faded  in  the  evening 
sky.  Bright  blue  became  faint  turquoise,  and  red- 
gold  a  rosy  lemon,  while  deep  violet  merged  into  a 
more  misty  amethyst.  Night  was  beginning  to  fall. 
The  women  of  the  party  put  on  their  light  summer 
cloaks,  and  all  began  reluctantly  to  think  of  going 
home. 

On  the  way  back,  Jerome,  who  accompanied  them, 
rolling  his  bicycle  along  as  he  walked,  explained  that 
his  parents,  with  whom  he  lived,  were  at  the  present 
season  at  their  chateau  in  Touraine,  so  that  he  was 
therefore  alone  in  Paris.    He  had  been  forced  to  re- 


THE    EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE     155 

main  behind  alone  for  another  month  to  attend  to 
some  business  at  the  Foreign  Affairs  Ministry. 

"Then  come  and  spend  the  rest  of  your  time  of 
loneliness  down  here  with  us,"  cried  Mrs.  Brent  spon- 
taneously turning  towards  Madame  Reville,  for  a 
confirmation  of  her  invitation — which  Frangoise  could 
not  refuse.  "  We've  got  a  spare  room  at  Les  Peupliers, 
and  I  am  sure  Paris  is  stifling  now.  We  are  so  near 
to  St.  Lazare  that  you  can  run  in  to  town  whenever 
you  like." 

Again  Jerome  was  puzzled,  !though  touched,  by 
such  kind  hospitality.     But  he  answered  hesitatingly. 

"  Je  suis  confus,  I  do  not  know  what  to  answer 

you.     I  am  afraid  of  being  in  the  way "     He 

stopped  hesitatingly  once  more,  and  his  eyes  fell  and 
rested  on  Jacqueline  with  bewilderment. 

"  Answer  *  Yes,' "  said!  good  Mrs.  Brent,  "  and 
you'll  please  us  all.  Won't  he  ?  "  she  said,  addressing 
herself  to  the  rest  of  the  company. 

"Yes — ^yes!"  cried  Nelly. 

Frangoise  and  Jacqueline  were  less  boisterous  in  their 
insistence,  but,  realizing  that  Jerome  d'Abhs  was  evi- 
dently a  great  and  intimate  friend  of  the  Brents, 
they  both  graciously  begged  him  to  stay. 

"You  are  such  an  old — ^very  old  friend  of  Oliver's 
.  Why  you've  known  one  another  since  you 
were  almost  boys,"  pursued  Mrs.  Brent,  addressing 
Jerome  again.  "  Your  parents  are  far  away,  and  you 
are  alone.  It  will  be  far  better  for  you  to  be  with 
us  than  to  go  cycling  around  Paris  all  alone  in  a  fresh 
direction  each  day  and  then  get  lost!" 


T55    THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

*^  Allans,  est-ce  entendu?"  queried  Nelly. 

"I  am  really  more  grateful  than  I  can  say,"  began 
Jerome,  still  hesitating  and  looking  towards  Oliver. 

For  though  Oliver  liked  Jerome  personally  and 
found  him  a  most  entertaining  companion,  he  had 
added  but  a  weak  insistence  to  his  aunt's  and  sister's 
kindly  urgings.  He  knew  that  Jerome  was  unaccus- 
tomed to  the  society  of  young  girls  and  though  the 
hoyden  Nelly  had  nothing  to  fear  from  the  young 
Frenchman,  he  wondered  whether  Madame  Reville — 
had  she  known  Jerome  better — would  have  cared  to 
have  him  for  any  lengthy  period  in  close  touch  with 
her  daughter.  But  alas !  he  felt  himself  powerless  to 
resist  the  current  of  events  and  it  was  impossible 
for  him,  being  the  only  man  of  the  party,  not  to 
confirm  his  aunt's  invitation.  Above  all  he  was 
prompted  by  the  instinctive  British  loathing  of  ap- 
pearing inhospitable.  So  he  answered  his  friend's 
mute  appeal  resolutely : 

"Of  course  you  must  agree  to  come"  he  said. 
"  Now  that's  enough,  that's  enough,  mon  vieux,"  he 
added  as  Jerome  proceeded  to  thank  Mrs.  Brent  in 
polite  and  flowery  language.  "Now  it's  understood. 
You  come  to  us  to-morrow  evening  with  your  valise 
and  your  bicycle.  Your  room  will  be  quite  ready  for 
you.  As  you  are  good  at  games,  you'll  be  the  special 
delight  of  my  sister,  who  is  always  in  want  of  a  new 
partner.** 

So  it  wa3  arranged.  And  Jerome  d'Ablis  was 
added  to  the  party  at  Les  Peupliers. 


CHAPTER   X 

Jer8me  d'Ablis,  a  charming  young  flls  de  famille  of 
about  thirty,  was  at  the  Ministry  of  Foreign  Affairs 
awaiting  with  laudable  resignation  his  future  appoint- 
ment to  some  diplomatic  post.  The  sole  ambition 
of  his  wealthy  parents  was  that  their  son  should  enter 
La  Carriere,  as  the  Diplomatic  Service  is  called  in 
France.  But  so  far  his  nomination  had  been  a  diffi- 
cult thing  to  obtain,  for  the  d'Ablis  family  was  old 
and  aristocratic,  and  had  only  lately  been  converted 
to  Republicanism.  Formerly  La  Carriere  was  re- 
cruited almost  exclusively  from  among  the  families 
of  the  old  French  aristocracy.  But  since  the  sons 
of  Republicans  had  begun  to  enter  the  ranks  of  can- 
didates, it  had  become  more  difficult  for  descendants 
of  the  old  French  noblesse  to  obtain  appointments, 
even  to  the  lesser  posts  in  this  Administration  d'Etdt. 

Jerome,  who  was  a  most  accomplished  and  distin- 
guished type  of  the  young  society  man  of  Paris,  had 
been  waiting  patiently,  contenting  himself  with  his 
small  unremunerated  post  at  the  Ministry  of  Foreign 
Affairs  in  the  hope  that  some  day  influential  friends 
of  his  father's  would  be  able  to  secure  him  a  billet. 
Lately  a  new  Minister  had  come  into  power  who  was 
less  drastic  in  his  dealings  with  the  members  of  the 
older  nobility,  and  some  hope  was  now  entertained  of 
a  possible  ending  to  Jerome's  long  probation. 

But   meanwhile   the  young  man    had   found   the 

157 


158    THE  EDUCATION  OK  JACQUELINE 

pleasures  whicH  Paris  offers  to  the  attractive  and 
distinguished  bachelor  most  alluring.  The  period  of 
his  waiting  had  been  anything  but  dull.  Society  host- 
esses of  all  classes  welcomed  him  with  effusion.  He 
was  a  favourite  anywhere — in  the  restricted  social 
circles  of  the  Faubourg  as  well  as  in  the  Republican 
officialdom.  He  was  not  only  extremely  goodlooking, 
but  he  was  most  entertaining  and  useful  to  hostesses 
of  all  classes,  being  an  excellent  leader  of  cotillons 
as  well  as  a  brilliant  conversationalist.  He  was  an 
amateur  musician  too  and  at  times  dabbled  in  litera- 
ture, for  now  and  again  he  wrote  short,  rather  insipid, 
but  very  finely  polished  articles  in  the  Figaro  or  in 
one  of  the  monthly  reviews.  Above  all,  he  had  a 
decided  taste  for  painting.  In  order  to  work  more 
seriously  at  Art  he  had  taken  some  years  before — 
while  Oliver  still  lived  with  the  Lerouge  family — a 
studio  not  only  in  the  same  block  as  Oliver's,  but 
actually  next  door  to  it,  so  that  only  a  thin  wall 
divided  them.  By  such  close  neighbourhood  he  hoped 
to  reap  many  advantages  from  Oliver's  superior 
guidance.  Jerome  himself  had  a  pretty  talent,  but 
was  a  sincere  admirer  of  Oliver's  and  was  proud  to 
call  himself  Oliver's  great  friend.  Ofte'n  Jeromd 
would  rap  on  the  dividing  wall,  and  call  out  to  his 
friend  to  invite  him  to  lunch  or  to  beg  him  to  come 
mto  his  studio  and  criticize  his  work.  Oliver,  who 
was  a  far  more  serious-minded  person,  was  often 
amused  by  Jerome's  absurd  and  childish  gaiety,  and 
found  him  a  clever  as  well  as  a  most  entertaining 
companion,  although  the  light  frivolity  of  Jerome's 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    159 

mind  precluded  all  possibility  of  any  very  deep  friend- 
ship between  the  two  men. 

But  though  Jerome  was  on  familiar  terms  with 
Oliver,  he  never  invited  him  to  the  house  of  his 
parents,  and  indeed  he  never  introduced  Oliver  to 
his  father  and  mother  at  all.  Like  many  young 
Frenchmen  of  his  class  and  education,  he  kept  his 
family  relations  entirely  separate  from  his  external 
and  social  life.  His  friends — even  the  most  intimate 
— met  him  at  his  club  or  at  various  cafes,  or  called 
to  see  him  in  his  studio,  and  though  he  lived  at  home, 
his  parents  knew  but  few  of  his  friends  and  acquaint- 
ances. At  times  Jerome,  after  a  long  night's  carous- 
ing at  various  cafes  or  at  his  club  did  not  return  to 
the  parental  roof  at  all.  He  would  then  go  to  sleep 
at  his  studio,  which  was  provided  with  a  divan  bed 
that  was  always  made  and  ready  for  occupation,  be- 
neath its  sumptuous  draperies  or  oriental  embroid- 
eries. The  concierge  of  the  building  acted  as  sort 
of  general  servant  to  all  the  occupants  of  the  studios — 
very  few  of  which  were  inhabited  as  living  rooms — 
so  that  on  those  evenings  when  Jerome  repaired  to 
his  studio  to  finish  up  the  night,  the  concierge  brought 
him  up  his  coffee  ready  made  from  the  loge  in  the 
morning.  It  happened  occasionally  that  Jerome  was 
not  alone  when  he  thus  returned  to  his  studio  for  the 
night  and  was  accompanied  by  some  charming  com- 
panion, to  whom  the  concierge  would  act  as  femtne 
de  chambre  in  the  morning.  But  this  occurred  rarely. 
His  feminine  acquaintances  were  mostly  of  a  higher 
social  order.    They  generally  came  in  the  afternoon. 


j6o    the   education   OF  JACQUELINE 

between  five  and  seven,  darkly  gowned  and  closely 
veiled,  stepping  furtively  from  a  closed  cab  with 
drawn  blinds,  and  gliding  quickly  down  the  long  cor- 
ridor upon  which  the  doors  of  the  studio  opened. 

The  proximity  of  his  friend's  studio  might  at  times 
have  been  an  annoyance  to  Jerome  had  he  been  really 
concerned  about  keeping  the  fair  names  of  the  ladies 
who  called  at  his  studio  entirely  untarnished.  But 
Jerome,  alas!  was  very  careless  of  these  reputations, 
treating  them  too  lightly  in  Oliver's  more  austere 
opinion. 

When  he  was  discussing  witH  Oliver  one  day,  much 
against  Brent's  own  taste — for  he  disliked  Jerome's 
confidences  and  generally  managed  to  avoid  them — 
the  visit  of  an  Italian  Princess  of  great  and  renowned 
family  the  previous  afternoon,  Oliver  stopped  him 
with  a  gesture  of  reproach  and  impatience,  and  asked 
him  if  he  were  not  ashamed  of  compromising  so  un- 
blemished a  prestige. 

"  Bah ! "  said  Jerome  lightly,  as  he  brushed  up- 
wards the  shining  points  of  his  bronze-coloured  mous- 
tache. "  Bah !  Let  them  defend  themselves !  The 
dear  things,  they  know  what  they  risk  when  they 
come  to  my  studio     .     .     ." 

Oliver  was  silent.  A  dull  red  flush  spread  over 
his  face. 

"  I  do  not  look  at  these  things  as  you  do,  evidently," 
he  began. 

"  Angliche  pudihond,  va!"  interjected  Jerome. 

"  But  among  them  all,  these  women  who  have  com- 
promised themselves  for  you,  has  there  never  been 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE     i6r 

one  for  whom  you  truly  cared,  and  whom  you  con- 
sider worthy  of  your  respect  and  chivalry?" 

Jerome  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  One  owes  neither  respect  nor  chivalry  to  women 
who  accept  such  assignations  as  mine.  They  know 
I'm  not  in  earnest,  and  they  are  not  in  earnest  them- 
selves. Besides,  one  owes  respect  to  but  one  woman 
in  one's  life — one's  own  wife.  None  of  the  others 
count ! " 

"We  evidently  don't  feel  the  same  way  in  these 
matters,"  said  Oliver  stiffly. 

Jerome  carelessly  shrugged  his  shoulders  once  more 
and  muttered  something  more  about  English  prudery. 

"It  seems  to  me  that  whatever  women  do,  they 
ought  to  be  treated  with  consideration — and  more 
especially  still  by  the  very  man  who  ruins  them.  For 
women  have  the  worst  of  it  in  every  way,  and 
always." 

"Oh,  mon  cher'*  said  Jerome  impatiently,  "you've 
missed  your  vocation!  You  ought  not  to  have  been 
an  artist,  but  a  Protestant  parson.  That  was  your 
bent,  my  friend."  And  Jerome,  laughing  at  Oliver's 
serious  face,  lit  another  cigarette,  and  turned  the  con- 
versation to  other  subjects. 

Yet  Oliver,  for  all  his  austere  disproval  of  Jerome's 
ways  with  women,  had  a  genuine  liking  for  the  young 
Frenchman.  At  an  early  stage  of  their  acquaintance 
— and  this  was  long  before  he  had  any  knowledge  of 
Jerome's  promiscuous  lovemaking  among  society 
ladies — Brent  had  invited  his  friend  to  his  aunt's 
house.     Here  Jerome  had  become  a  great  favourite. 


i62     THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

Nelly  amused  him  greatly.  She  appealed  to  him  as 
if  she  were  a  bright  young  boy  companion — not  a 
woman  at  all.  And  Nelly,  healthy-minded  and  full 
of  genuine  fun,  though  she  liked  Jerome,  to  a  cer- 
tain extent,  yet  dften  ma,de  him  the  butt  of  her 
raillery  and  teasing.  What  she  termed  his  "namby- 
pamby  ways"  caused  her  much  merriment.  Though 
brave  in  many  ways,  for  he  would  not  have  hesitated 
an  instant  to  go  out  upon  le  terrain,  had  he  been 
called  out  by  one  of  the  husbands  of  the  veiled  and 
furtive- footed  ladies  who  sometimes  visited  his  studio, 
yet  he  nearly  fainted  with  horror  at  the  sight  of  a 
mouse,  and  he  could  not  bear  bodily  discomfort  of 
any  kind  without  complaining  like  a  child.  One  day 
Nelly  nearly  forced  Jerome  into  a  thorough  exhibition 
of  temper,  when  she  put  one  of  her  pink-eyed  white 
mice  on  his  shoulder.  The  shriek  of  horror  which 
he  gave  upon  that  occasion  was  treasured  up  by  Nelly, 
who  repeated  it  in  mockery  each  time  she  wished  to 
try  his  patience  to  the  utmost. 

And  now  at  Les  Peupliers  there  were  four  young 
people  to  go  out  for  long  walks  together.  To  Jerome 
— who,  being  brought  up  in  the  most  approved  French 
fashion,  had  many  men  friends  but  had  never  been 
brought  into  contact  with  a  young  girl  before — 
Jacqueline  was  destined  to  be  a  revelation.  He 
had  always  wondered  what  an  unmarried  girl  was 
like.  He  had  met  a  few  in  his  mother's  salon,  and 
they  had  seemed  to  him  mysterious,  inexplicable  and 
silent  creatures  whose  own  reserve  built  an  impene- 
trable barrier  around   them.     For  him,   they  were 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    163 

forbidden  fruit.  One  must  not  approach  them  except 
with  matrimonal  intentions,  and,  as  he  had  not  begun 
to  contemplate  marriage  yet,  any  friendship  or  com- 
panionship with  them  was  of  course  impossible.  In 
Jerome's  opinion,  a  woman  was  only  a  woman  once  she 
was  married,  and  a  jeune  iille  was  a  strange  hybrid 
creature  he  did  not  understand  at  all  and  was  inclined 
rather  to  fear.  Thus  the  easy  and  kindly  hospitality 
of  the  Brents  had  been  the  means  of  putting  him 
for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  in  touch  with  that  curi- 
ous, tantalising  and  hitherto  unknown  mystery,  a 
vraie  jeune  iille.  This  for  a  young  Frenchman  of 
Jerome's  class  and  education  was  indeed  an  almost 
unhoped-for  interest.  He  was  at  last  not  only  able 
to  meet  but  to  be  in  daily  contact  with  one  of  those 
perplexing,  ambiguous  creatures  who  had  always 
possessed  the  attraction  of  the  enigmatic  for  him. 

How  interesting  it  was  going  to  be — to  be  allowed 
to  be  near  one  at  last — ^to  be  able  to  touch  her,  to 
breathe  the  same  air  as  she  did!  Were  they  as  im- 
maculately innocent  as  they  were  supposed  to  be — 
these  jeiines  iilles — even  under  the  guarding  wing  and 
vigilant  eye  of  their  mothers,  separated  by  customs, 
habits  and  conventions  from  all  male  humanity,  pre- 
served untouched  for  the  exclusive  delight  and  owner- 
ship of  one  lucky  man — the  husband,  the  initiator  of 
all  knowledge?  Nelly  Brent,  with  her  frank,  open, 
'unconventional  freedom  of  speech  and  action,  as 
well  as  her  lack  of  coquetry  and  of  mystery,  had 
never  appealed  to  Jerome  with  the  charm  of  the 
jeune  Me.    She  seemed  to  him  no  more  than  a  young 


i64     THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE 

lad  full  of  spirits,  fun,  and  exuberance.  But  this 
quiet,  reserved,  languid-eyed  Jacqueline,  so  trouhlante 
with  golden  hair,  fresh  mouth  and  its  elusive,  caress- 
ing smile — attracted  him  in  an  inexplicable  manner! 

For  the  first  few  days  of  his  visit,  Jerome  d'Ablis 
was  ill  at  ease  in  her  presence.  He  did  not  know — 
to  use  his  own  expression — "  sur  quel  pied  danser  " — 
on  which  foot  to  dance.  He  was  afraid  of  making 
mistakes,  of  frightening,  and  so  of  offending,  her, 
and  of  alienating  her  interest  entirely.  His  attentions 
were  therefore  tentative,  and  most  measured  and  he 
was  most  careful  of  his  speech,  fearing  that  he  might 
displease  or  hurt  her.  But  by  degrees  the  ice  thawed 
between  them,  and  seeing  Jacqueline's  simple  friendly 
attitude  with  Oliver,  Jerome  felt  reassured  and  be- 
came more  confident.  Then  he  made  a  few  advances, 
and  mustered  up  sufficient  courage  to  speak  to  her, 
and  when  he  did  he  was  astonished  to  find  that  she 
answered  him  either  quite  simply  or  perhaps  even 
coquettishly,  just  like  any  other  woman.  So  by 
degrees,  the  diffidence  she  had  inspired  him  with 
diminished  and  finally  disappeared,  and  they  became 
great  friends,  on  the  same  footing  as  she  was  with 
Oliver.  As  his  company  did  not  seem  to  displease 
her,  he  arranged  to  be  her  own  special  companion 
during  their  long  walks.  He  soon  discovered  what 
were  the  subjects  that  interested  her  most,  and — a 
clever  and  brilliant  causeur — he  kept  to  them,  taking 
every  opportunity  of  charming  her  with  his  witty 
sallies. 

But  as  the  days  progressed  Jacqueline  surprised 


THE    EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE     165 

Jerome.  He  had  not  expected  to  find  a  jeune  Me 
who  knew  so  much,  who  could  converse  upon  almost 
every  subject  whether  it  were  art,  literature,  history, 
politics,  or  even  sociology.  Were  all  j'eunes  Ulles 
alike,  he  wondered,  or  was  Mademoiselle  Reville  a 
most  exceptional  one?  Certainly  he  had  never  been 
given  to  understand  that  the  jeunes  Ulles  of  to-day 
were  so  competent  in  the  art  of  conversation.  Jerome 
was  more  and  more  bewildered,  and  his  amazement 
grew  into  deeper  admiration,  and  his  admiration  into 
a  yet  greater  desire  to  please,  and  finally  his  own 
desire  to  please  into  a  love-interest  of  which  he  would 
have  thought  himself  incapable  a  few  weeks  before. 

Jacqueline  herself  soon  became  aware  of  the  at- 
traction she  had  for  him  and,  flattered  and  amused 
by  his  evident  admiration,  now  allowed  all  her  in- 
stincts of  coquetry  to  rise  rampant  once  more. 

Since  she  had  been  sitting  to  Oliver  for  her  por- 
trait, her  attitude  towards  the  young  painter  had 
somewhat  veered  round.  Before  this  period  she  had 
looked  upon  Oliver  as  a  simple  young  Englishman 
slightly  gauche  in  his  dealings  with  women,  and  as 
a  hon  camarade  when  she  was  in  her  best  moods, 
though  she  found  him  difficult  to  flirt  with  at  all 
times.  But  since  the  long  tete-d-tetes  in  the  studio 
and  the  conversations  upon  so  many  subjects  of  inter- 
est to  both  painter  and  model,  Oliver  had  shown  her 
many  new  sides  of  his  character  and  his  mentality 
which  had  revealed  him  in  quite  a  new  light  before 
the  critical  tribunal  of  her  exacting  mind.  They  had 
become  close,  and  even  very  dear  friends,  for  Jac- 


i66    THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

queline's  heart  could  only  be  toucHed  through  the 
medium  of  her  brain.  She  had  been  so  intellectually 
trained  that  she  considered  mental  culture  as  the 
highest  of  all  attributes  that  might  claim  to  attract 
her.  Not  even  perfect  beauty  appealed  to  her  yet  so 
completely  as  brilliancy  of  the  intellect.  And  be- 
neath his  cold  and  reserved  demeanour  Oliver  had 
proved  to  her  the  unquestionable  superiority  of  his 
mind. 

Oliver  had  never  yet  betrayed  his  love  to  Jacque- 
line, and  although  he  felt  that  he  had  won  her 
friendship  he  dared  not  yet  hope  that  he  had  reached 
the  tenderer  feelings  of  her  heart.  And  he  neither 
reasoned  out  his  conduct  nor  laid  plans,  but  allowed 
matters  to  drift  as  they  would,  trusting  in  the  days 
to  come  when  Jacqueline  would  awake  to  love.  He 
had  hoped  that  the  expression  he  had  painted  in 
her  portrait  would  have  revealed  her  to  herself.  But 
though  her  mother,  in  her  ever-vigilant  tenderness, 
had  discovered  the  dawn  of  true  womanhood  in  the 
eyes  of  the  picture  and  knew  what  message  they  told 
of  Oliver's  love  for  his  model,  Jacqueline  herself,  if 
she  had  perceived  any  revelation,  had  not  yet  under- 
stood its  significance.  She  admired  the  picture,  and 
she  felt  deference  and  respect  for  Oliver  for  having 
been  able  to  summarize  her  own  extrinsic  personality 
so  well,  but  she  had  not  been  able  to  read  the  supreme 
message  of  Oliver's  love  which  the  portrait  itself 
conveyed. 

But  now  with  Jerome's  advent  her  interest  was  by 
degrees  drawn  away  from  Oliver  and  new  emotions 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE     167 

were  forcing  themselves,  almost  against  her  will,  into 
her  youthful  sensibility.  And  he — ^Jerome — perceiv- 
ing her  feelings,  long  before  she  had  entirely  realized 
them  herself,  determined  to  lose  no  time  in  storming 
the  citadel  of  her  heart.  For  Jerome's  motto  in  his 
dealings  with  women  was  "  lose  no  time."  He  was 
at  this  particular  moment  free  from  all  intrigue. 
His  latest  passion — ^the  Italian  princess — ^had  returned 
to  her  castle  in  Tuscany,  leaving  him  free  and  as 
heart-whole  as  ever. 

The  days  at  Les  Peupliers  would  Have  seemed  long 
and  empty  to  him,  had  not  Jacqueline  been  there,  for 
he  did  not  care  for  any  of  the  childish  games  that 
Nelly  suggested,  and  he  had  always  distrusted  that 
young  lady's  playful  jokes  since  the  episode  of  the 
white  mouse.  But  the  strange  young  girl  who  was 
so  different  from  all  his  preconceived  ideas  concern- 
ing the  jeune  fille,  interested  him  enormously,  and 
made  him  accept  the  somewhat  dull  pleasures  of  Les 
Peupliers  almost  with  enthusiasm. 

At  first  he  spent  most  of  his  mornings  in  the  studio 
watching  the  progress  of  Oliver's  pictures,  but  Oliver 
soon  discovered  that  his  presence  disturbed  the  sittings 
and  altered  the  expression  of  his  model,  and  though 
Jerome  amused  Jacqueline — indeed,  precisely  because 
he  amused  her — Oliver  forbade  him  the  entrance  to 
the  tower. 

As  Jerome  was  unable  to  make  love  to  Jacqueline 
in  the  mornings,  he  determined  to  get  even  with  Oliver 
during  the  long  walks  in  the  afternoons.  He  re- 
mained always  close  to  Jacqueline  upon  these  occa- 


i68    THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE 

sions,  and  soon  the  charm  of  his  attractive  personality 
began  to  work  more  definitely  upon  her  emotions.  By 
degrees  she  ceased  to  be  merely  coquettish  with  him, 
being  captivated  in  her  turn,  and  finally  to  her  aston- 
ishment discovered  that  she  had  been  caught  in  the 
meshes  of  her  own  deftly-spread  net, 

Jacqueline,  theoretically  aware  of  most  things  in 
life,  had  never  yet  been  in  love.  Like  many  young 
girls  who  have  developed  on  the  mental  rather  than 
upon  the  emotional  plane,  she  believed  herself  to  be 
incapable  of  feeling  the  tender  passion.  But  Jerome 
had  determined  now  to  awaken  her.  The  slim,  nerv- 
ous creature,  hitherto  so  conscious  of  self,  with  her 
quick  perceptive  brain  and  cultured  mind,  had  a  tan- 
tilising  charm  for  him.  It  seemed  to  him  a  delightful 
task  to  bring  into  those  gay  and  mocking  eyes  the 
shadow  of  that  womanly  tenderness  which  Oliver's 
picture  suggested  but  which  Oliver  himself — "  I'Ang- 
liche  pudihond!" — as  Jerome  always  disdainfully 
called  him — had  failed  to  evoke  in  reality.  And 
though  Jerome  set  himself  deliberately  to  gain  Jac- 
queline's love,  yet  it  was  with  a  certain  amount  of 
involuntary  personal  emotion.  By  her  terrible  co- 
quetry, she  had  unconsciously  aroused  a  genuine 
passion  in  Jerome's  heart.  Because  of  her  alert  in- 
telligence, he  believed  her  to  be  more  fully  possessed 
of  knowledge  and  experience  of  life  than  she  really 
was,  while  her  beguilements,  though  consciously  willed 
and  directed  by  her,  were  yet  unconscious  of  their 
own  powers.  They  were  in  reality  quite  innocent 
and  childlike  and  totally  ignorant  of  their  own  mean- 


THE    EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE     169 

ing.  The  girl  did  not  even  know  what  fires  she  was 
lighting  with  her  winning  smiles.  While  Jerome  be- 
lieved her  to  be  a  fully-developed  and  conscious 
coquette,  she  was  in  reality  as  a  child  playing  with 
forces  which  would  finally  assail  and  overwhelm  it. 
Neither  did  Jerome  for  a  moment  suppose  that  he 
was  the  first  with  whom  she  had  measured  her  steel. 
Because  of  her  obvious  knowledge  and  intelligence 
he  took  her  to  be  a  thoroughly  practised  flirt.  He 
never  realized  that  though  her  mind  had  been  culti- 
vated, her  emotions  were  still  completely  undeveloped, 
and  she  herself  was  incapable  of  explaining  this  to 
him  since  she  was  ignorant  of  the  depth  and  meaning 
of  those  new  emotions.  He  never  dreamt  that  the 
game  between  them  was  unequal  at  the  start,  or  un- 
derstood her  immaturity  since  she  had  the  outward  ap- 
pearance of  the  skilled  coquette. 

At  the  same  time,  Jerome  himself  never  stopped  to 
consider  what  might  be  the  end  of  this  holiday  idyll. 
Although  he  knew  that  Jacqueline  Reville  was  a  lady 
by  birth  and  education,  he  believed  that  she  had  little 
or  no  fortune  and  that  she  would  never  be  accepted 
as  a  daughter-in-law  by  his  own  father  and  mother 
for  that  reason.  Therefore  not  for  one  moment  did  it 
enter  his  mind  to  ask  her  hand  in  marriage.  To  his 
idea  she  offered  the  chance  of  a  pleasant  episode — 
that  was  all. 

That  he  was  forced  to  conceal  this  flirtation  from  his 
host  and  hostesses  at  Les  Peupliers  seemed  to  him  quite 
natural.  Was  he  not  always  forced  to  play  a  part  in 
all  his  affaires  de  coeur  in  view  of  the  legitimate  wrath 


I70    THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

of  irate  husbands?  He  therefore  instinctively  and 
more  particularly  hid  his  courtship  from  Madame 
Reville  and  Oliver.  By  this  attitude  he  might  have 
brought  disturbance  into  the  mind  of  Jacqueline,  had 
not  she  herself,  for  the  first  time  in  her  life,  lost  her 
head.  Yet  the  fact  of  Jerome's  clever  concealment 
of  his  emotions  before  her  mother  and  friends  some- 
^  what  alarmed  her  in  those  moments  when  her  vision 
was  clear.  She  was  too  proud  to  ask  an  explanation 
of  it  from  Jerome  himself,  yet  too  unsophisticated  in 
matters  of  love  to  dream  of  any  arriere-pensee  in  his 
mind.  It  is  true  that  each  time  they  were  alone  he 
made  violent  protestations  of  his  love  for  her,  and 
extolled  her  charms  in  delightful  and  poetic  terms. 
But  of  marriage  he  made  no  mention,  and  poor  Jac- 
queline was  now  so  deeply  disturbed  that  she  took 
but  little  notice  of  this  omission. 

She  lived  thus  in  an  emotional  torpor.  Oliver 
had  now  nearly  finished  the  portrait,  indeed  there 
had  been  but  five  or  six  sittings  necessary  after  Je- 
rome's arrival  at  Les  Peupliers.  So,  while  Oliver  was 
beginning  a  new  picture  in  his  tower  and  Nelly  was 
amusing  herself  in  the  garden  with  "  Rip,"  and  trying 
to  improve  his  education,  Jacqueline  and  Jerome 
would  wander  off  into  the  woods  at  the  back  of  the 
house  on  plea  of  seeking  wild  flowers  to  adorn  the 
table  at  luncheon;  and  during  these  warm  sunny 
mornings  Jerome  made  the  most  of  his  opportunities, 
and  Jacqueline  allowed  herself  to  be  courted. 

Suddenly  Oliver  became  uneasy.     Once  at  table 
he  had  seen  Jerome's  glance  set  on  Jacqueline,  and 


THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE     171 

the  girl's  eyes  respond  to  his.  Oliver  experienced 
such  pain  at  the  revelation  of  their  expression  that 
all  the  latent  brute  that  slumbers  in  the  heart  of  every 
Anglo-Saxon  arose  fierce  within  him,  and  his  first 
instinct  was  to  kick  Jerome  out  of  the  house.  When 
he  heard  his  kindly  aunt  renew  her  invitation  once 
more  to  Jerome,  pressing  him  to  remain  as  their  guest 
a  few  days  more  till  the  end  of  the  month,  his  heart 
sank  within  him. 

And  yet  another  pair  of  anxious  eyes  watched  the 
small  tragedy  that  was  being  enacted  during  the  peace- 
ful holidays  at'L^^  Peupliers.  Frangoise,  observing 
her  daughter,  saw  that  some  deep  emotion  was  astir  in 
the  heart  of  her  darling.  She  even  saw  the  look  that 
Oliver  had  painted  in  Jacqueline's  depicted  eyes,  be- 
ginning to  dawn  in  the  face  of  her  beloved  child; 
and  she  set  herself  to  watch — ^to  watch  with  keen 
vigilance. 

One  evening  towards  the  end  of  the  holidays,  when 
the  long,  hot  summer  day  was  at  an  end  and  the  moon 
was  full  in  the  sky,  Nelly  proposed  a  walk  after 
dinner  through  the  secluded  alleys  of  the  lovely  woods 
behind  the  house,  where  Jacqueline  and  Jerome  had 
been  flower-hunting  in  the  morning.  It  was  the  last 
day  of  Jerome's  stay,  for  he  was  leaving  for  Touraine 
the  following  evening.  They  all  started  off  in  pairs, 
the  two  "mothers" — Mrs.  Brent  and  Madame  Re- 
ville — Nelly  and  Oliver,  followed  by  Rip  in  quest  of 
stones  to  be  thrown  along  the  road  for  him  to  run 
after,  and  Jerome  and  Jacqueline  lingering  a  long 
way  behind,  apart  from  the  others  and  evidently  keen 


172     THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE 

to  enjoy  total  solitude.  But  at  a  pause  in  a  dell 
where  the  first  two  couples  were  resting  to  view  the 
moonlight  scene,  Franqoise  drew  Jacqueline  aside 
and  almost  for  the  first  time  in  her  life,  chided  her 
gently. 

"My  dearest,  you  should  not  stay  so  far  behind 
with  Monsieur  d'Ablis  and  for  so  long  a  time.  It  is 
not  convenable." 

"  Convenable!  dearest  maman,"  exclaimed  Jacque- 
line, smiling  indulgently  upon  her  parent.  "  You 
did  not  bring  me  up  to  consider  les  convenances  at 
every  turn — did  you?  I  have  always  done  just  as  I 
liked,  and  I  have  always  walked  out  alone  for  years. 
Why  not  now?  Surely  I  can  take  care  of  myself! 
iWhy  this  sudden  reversion  to  the  old  bogies  of  your 
own  education?  'Les  convenances!'  But,  my  dearest 
mother,  it's  the  first  time  that  I  have  heard  you  in- 
voke them! 

"  Surely  if  I  like  to  walk  alone  with  Monsieur  Je- 
rome to  enjoy  his  conversation  exclusively,  you  cannot 
try  to  oppose  me  now !    It's  too  late,  sweet  mother !  " 

And  seeing  that  Frangoise  in  the  weakness  of  her 
love  was  ready  to  relent  at  once,  Jacqueline  continued : 

"Don't  worry  about  me,  maman  cherie.  You 
know  that  I  am  always  capable  of  taking  care  of 
myself!" 

So  saying  she  kissed  her  mother  lightly  on  the 
cheek,  and  went  off  gaily  back  along  the  path  to  meet 
Jerome,  who  was  coming  to  claim  her  once  more. 

The  memory  of  that  evening  was  to  remain  for 
many  months  in  Jacqueline's  mind  for  Jerome  dared 


THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE    173 

to  plead  with  her  as  he  had  never  dared  to  plead 

before. 

"  I  leave  here  to-morrow,  sweet  Jacqueline,  and  shall 
not  see  you  again  till  you  all  return  to  Paris.  I've 
spent  these  adorable  four  weeks  here  with  you  and 
now  my  parents  want  me  to  finish  up  my  holiday  with 
them  in  Touraine.  In  less  than  three  weeks'  time, 
you  will  be  back  in  Paris  again.  Won't  you  promise 
me  now,  that  you  will  come  and  see  me  one  day  at 
my  studio  ?  " 

Jacqueline  was  troublee  but  strangely  flattered  at 
this  invitation.  She  hesitated  some  moments  before 
replying,  partly  because  of  her  innate  coquetry  which 
urged  her  to  make  the  gift  of  her  promise  more 
precious  by  a  seeming  refusal,  and  partly  because 
her  instinctive  fear  was  aroused.  Despite  the  fact 
that  she  had  almost  lost  her  head  she  was  still  con- 
scious that  the  careful  secrecy  of  Jerome's  lovemaking 
implied  that  something  was  reprehensible.  Yet  so 
profoundly  moved  was  she  that  she  stifled  the  nascent 
distrust  in  her  heart,  allowing  herself  to  be  lulled 
into  a  quiescent  delight  in  the  man's  mere  nearness, 
and  would  not  let  herself  to  be  persuaded  by  her 
better  judgment. 

"  Well !  Jacqueline !    Won't  you  say  *  yes  *  ?  " 
Jacqueline  still  demurred,  her  surer  intuition  mo- 
mentarily gaining  the  upper  hand  in  her  mind. 
"  I  might  perhaps  go  with  Nelly,  of  course   ..." 
"  No     .     .     .     no.     .     .     .     Don't  bring  Nelly, 
dearest.     .     .     .    We  don't  want  that  bouncing  tom- 
boy between  us !    No — come  to  me  alone,  my  Jacque- 


174    THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

line,  and  let  me  feel  myself  in  solitude  with  you  in 
the  heart  of  the  world! " 

"Dear  Monsieur  Jerome,  you  know  that  that  is 
almost  impossible.  I  go  out  alone  only  to  the  Sor- 
bonne." 

"  Then  come  one  day  when  you  are  supposed  to  be 
at  the  Sorbonne!" 

And  observing  her  persistent  hesitation,  he  added, 
drawing  her  arm  caressingly  through  his  and  feeling 
her  slim  body  quiver  at  his  touch :  "  Dearest,  dearest 
Jacqueline,  you  are  not  an  ignorant  child!  We  are 
neither  of  us  children.  We  know  life.  We  find  pleas- 
ure in  one  another's  company,  do  we  not?  Then 
what  harm  is  there  in  our  meeting  together  at  my 
studio?  We  are  here  together  alone  and  constantly, 
are  we  not  ?  " 

"  Yes  .  .  ;.  "  said  Jacqueline,  trembling  in  all 
her  limbs  as  she  felt  her  power  of  resistance  aban- 
doning her,  "  but     .     .     ." 

"Don't  say  *but,'  dearest  Jacqueline!  I  want  to 
feel  you  near  me — ^with  me — out  of  reach  of  all. 
Here  I  cannot  speak  to  you  without  fear  of  being  in- 
terrupted either  by  your  mother  or  the  estimable  but 
rather  dull  Oliver,  or  that  good  Nelly  yonder ! " 

"But  what  have  you  to  say  that  is  so  secret?" 
laughed  Jacqueline,  all  her  instinctive  coquetry  aroused 
and  dominant  in  her  eyes. 

Jerome  drew  still  nearer  to  her,  and  gently  slid  his 
arm  round  her  waist.  They  were  alone  in  the  won- 
derful moonlight,  in  the  fragrant  night  under  the 
gentle  swaying  of  the  trees,  lulled  by  the  song  of  the 
breezes.    All  his  youth  went  out  to  her  and  met  her 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    175 

youth.  He  bent  his  head  over  hers,  till  his  lips  almost 
touched  the  gold  of  her  hair.  Into  his  deep  embrace 
he  folded  her  yielding,  supple  figure  as  he  whispered 
■ — or  rather  breathed — into  her  too  willing  ear: 

"  You  know  what  I  have  to  say  to  you,  my  Jacque- 
line !  What  does  a  young  man  ever  want  to  say  to 
a  young  and  beautiful  woman?  I  want  to  tell  you 
how  much  I  love  you — ^Jacqueline " 

And  Jacqueline  closing  her  eyes  gently  let  Jerome's 
soft  words  sink  down  deep  into  her  heart,  permeating 
her  very  soul  with  their  irresistible  sweetness.  .  .  . 
Her  tremulous  lips  were  parted  in  a  half  smile.  Her 
delicate  nostrils  palpitated  with  emotion. 

Alas ! — ^Jacqueline  was  awakened  now !  There  was 
no  willed  coquetry  in  her  heart  any  longer — only  sub- 
mission to  true  emotion — ^to  love,  the  great,  the  al- 
mighty conqueror!  Into  her  eyes  now  rose  again  that 
marvelling  wonder  which  had  transformed  her  in 
Oliver's  picture. 

Gently  Jerome  drew  her  face  upward  to  his,  and 
then  softly — reverently,  too — ^he  laid  his  lips  upon 
her  closed  eyelids.     .     .      . 

"You  will  come?"  he  murmured  passionately. 

"  Yes,"  she  whispered  in  reply,  with  an  almost  im- 
perceptible pressure  of  her  hand  upon  his  arm. 

Then  Nelly's  voice  broke  ruthlessly  through  the 
hallowed  music  of  the  silence  which  had  seemed  to 
surround  them  together  in  the  moonlit  spaces. 

"  Come,  you  two  loiterers!  We're  all  going  home. 
Where  are  you?" 

The  spell  was  broken.  Jacqueline  and  Jerome  re- 
turned back  once  more  into  reality. 


CHAPTER  XI 

It  was  the  end  of  October.  The  Brents  had  long  be- 
fore returned  to  their  flat  in  the  Boulevard  Raspail 
and  Frangoise  and  her  daughter  had  also  taken  up 
their  winter  quarters  once  more.  Jacqueline,  who 
intended  going  in  for  a  Licence  in  two  years'  time, 
had  resumed  her  studies  and  followed  several  of  the 
cours  de  litterature  at  the  Sorbonne  most  assiduously. 
Yet  she  still  saw  the  Brents  almost  every  day,  both 
Oliver  and  Nelly.  As  for  Mrs.  Brent,  who  could 
never  find  any  occupation  to  keep  her  at  home,  she 
would  cross  Paris  in  two  omnibuses  to  arrive  at 
FranQoise's  flat  about  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon 
and  would  sit  with  her  until  five  or  six  o'clock,  while 
Fran^oise  sewed  by  the  side  of  the  fire.  Jacqueline, 
with  her  various  cours  at  the  Sorbonne,  and  her  pri- 
vate lessons  with  a  Lycee  professor  with  whom  she 
was  preparing  the  programme  of  special  subjects 
selected  for  the  Licence  that  year,  was  often  away 
from  home.  Like  most  students  who  are  in  process  of 
preparation  for  a  degree,  she  went  diligently  through 
the  entire  course  of  study  each  year  as  if  she  herself 
were  to  be  among  the  candidates  so  as  to  gain  some 
knowledge  of  what  her  future  ordeal  was  to  be.  Fran- 
goise  was  now  quite  used  to  her  daughter's  long  ab- 
sences, but  she  kept  a  careful  note  of  her  daughter's 
time-table  and  was  always  terribly  anxious  whenever 
she  was  two  or  three  minutes  late  after  the  cours  of 
the  day  was  over. 

176 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE     177 

At  present  she  was  delighted  to  see  Jacqueline  so 
greatly  interested  in  her  work,  apparently  only  think- 
ing of  her  Licence.  She  supposed  that  her  daughter's 
flirtation  with  Jerome  d'Ablis  had  therefore  come  to 
nothing,  and  she  was  happy  in  that  conviction.  But 
in  reality,  Jacqueline's  spirits  were  buoyed  up  only 
with  the  thjought  of  seeing  Jerome  again  soon.  She 
had  not  yet  summoned  up  the  courage  to  keep  her 
promise  to  go  to  see  him  at  his  studio.  At  least  she 
did  not  dare  to  go  of  her  own  free  will.  Yet  the 
thought  of  Jerome  never  left  her.  She  had  not  seen 
him  now  for  more  than  six  weeks,  nor  had  she  news 
of  him.  But  her  passion  had  grown  rather  than  de- 
creased during  this  period  of  separation.  Twenty 
times  a  day  she  found  herself  obsessed  with  his  mem- 
ory. Now  that  love  had  come  to  her,  it  had  come 
complete.  She  was  a  girl  no  longer.  She  was  a 
woman.  All  the  energy  which  had  ripened  in  her 
hitherto  and  made  of  her  the  self-willed,  assertive 
creature  that  she  was,  was  transformed  now  into  the 
force  which  nourished  her  love  for  Jerome.  She  was 
as  completely,  as  absolutely  whole-hearted  at  present 
in  her  passion  as  she  had  been  whole-hearted  before 
in  her  studies.  All  her  being  now  was  emotion.  She 
was  no  longer  a  creature  of  intellect  or  of  reason. 
The  deep  sources  of  feeling  in  her  heart,  that  so  far 
had  never  been  touched,  were  now  so  profoundly  up- 
heaved that  she  herself  hardly  realized  or  understood 
the  turmoil  which  was  going  on  within  her.  She  per- 
formed all  her  duties  concerning  her  studies  perfunc- 
torily, almost  without  any  brainwork  at  all.    In  order 


!I78    THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

to  conceal  her  secret  from  the  careful  watching  eyes 
of  her  mother,  she  practised  the  most  subtle  deceit, 
feigning  a  devotion  to  her  work  which  was  the  re- 
verse of  the  truth.  Often  when  Frangoise  believed 
her  to  be  safe  at  some  cours  at  the  Sorbonne,  she  was 
in  reality  walking  about  in  her  dreamland  amid  the 
flowery  paths  of  the  Luxembourg  Gardens.  At  home, 
while  FranQoise  believed  her  to  be  poring  over  her 
books  in  the  privacy  of  her  own  room,  she  was  in 
reality  lounging  in  an  armchair  close  to  the  fire,  gaz- 
ing into  the  ruddy  glow,  thinking  over  the  last  days 
of  her  sejour  at  Les  Peupliers  and  of  Jerome's  charm- 
ing love-making. 

Yet  there  were  hours  when  Frangoise's  vigilant 
love  began  to  arise  in  fear  and  obscure  forebodings. 
Her  devotion  to  Jacqueline  was  so  great  that  she  her- 
self almost  unconsciously  felt  the  emotions  that  were 
assailing  her  child.  But  strive  as  she  might,  she  could 
detect  no  fact  which  might  lead  her  to  understand 
what  was  taking  place  in  Jacqueline's  heart.  So  she 
allowed  her  vague  and  nameless  fears  to  be  lulled  into 
quietude,  even  against  her  intuition,  by  Jacqueline's 
evident  devotion  to  her  studies. 

The  Brents  once  more  received  their  friends  and  ac- 
quaintances of  the  Quartier  every  Sunday  evening,  and 
Frangoise  and  Jacqueline  attended  most  of  these 
weekly  receptions,  at  the  hospitable  home  of  the 
Boulevard  Raspail.  As  was  to  be  expected,  one  fate- 
ful Sunday,  Jerome  d'Ablis  was  there,  so  the  hour 
for  which  Jacqueline  had  so  long  hoped  came  at  last. 
It  was  evident  that  it  was  a  genuine  pleasure  for  him 


THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE     179 

to  see  Frangoise  and  her  daughter  again.  Neverthe- 
less, during  the  six  weeks  which  had  just  elapsed  he 
had  made  many  wise  resolutions,  regarding  his  in- 
tentions concerning  Jacqueline,  and  had  determined 
to  discontinue  his  attentions  entirely,  yet  during  the 
few  minutes'  private  conversation  he  had  been  able 
to  have  with  her  while  tea  was  being  served  in  the 
Brents'  dining-room,  all  her  former  charm  for  him 
was  renewed,  and  before  he  could  stop  himself  he 
had  reminded  her  of  her  promise  to  come  and  see  him 
at  his  studio.  At  the  very  first  sight  of  her  in  Mrs. 
Brent's  salon,  Jerome  had  realized  that  all  his  good 
intentions  would  count  for  nothing,  and  that  he  was 
more  than  ever  epris,  for  Jacqueline  seemed  more  than 
ever  alluring.  In  her  pale  blue  silk  gown,  cut  in  a 
point  at  the  neck,  showing  to  perfection  her  long,  lily- 
white  throat,  she  was  indeed  a  charming  apparition. 
Her  bright  curls  lifted  onto  the  crown  of  her  head, 
and  held  there  with  small  pearl  combs,  her  long,  slim 
waist,  her  beautiful  languid  movements,  all  made  up 
an  ensemble  of  such  grace,  that  Jerome's  renewed  in- 
fatuation was  only  too  easy  to  understand.  But  what 
made  him  lose  his  head  completely  was  the  tender  look 
that  came  in  Jacqueline's  velvety  eyes  whenever  they 
met  his.  What  could  be  more  touching,  more  en- 
thralling than  that  glance?  Was  it  not  sufficient  to 
turn  any  man's  head?  Yet  Jerome,  mindful  of  his 
worldly  interests  above  all  other  considerations, 
when  he  had  felt  himself  far  from  Jacqueline's  en- 
chanting presence — had  spent  most  of  the  time  which 
had  passed  since  his  return  from  Les  Peupliers  in 


i8o    THE  EDUCATION  OE  JACQUELINE 

making  various  inquiries  as  to  Mademoiselle  Reville's 
fortune.  He  knew  that  many  rich  heiresses  were 
brought  up  in  comparative  simplicity.  Madame  Re- 
ville's "  train  de  vie  '*  was  modest  and  unpretentious, 
that  was  true,  but  it  might  be  that  Mademoiselle  Jac- 
queline had  some  rich  aunts  or  uncles  with  "  esper- 
ances"  There  might  just  be  the  chance  of  some 
great  inheritance  coming  to  her,  and  certainly  she 
was  of  all  the  jeune  iilles  he  had  ever  met,  the 
most  desirable  one  for  a  wife.  What  a  charming 
companion  she  would  be ;  and  what  a  wife  for  a  diplo- 
matist! He  might  perhaps  some  day — if  fortune  fa- 
voured him — ^be  an  ambassador !  What  a  gracious  am- 
hassadrice  she  would  make!  But  before  speaking  to 
his  parents,  he  had  assiduously  sought  to  discover  all 
information  concerning  Madame  Reville's  financial 
position,  and  to  his  dismay  he  learnt  that  Jacqueline's 
mother  was  not  rich.  An  income  of  about  twelve 
thousand  francs  was  all  she  had,  and  she  lived  with 
comparative  economy.  It  is  true  that  someone  who 
professed  to  know  some  distant  relations  of  Fran- 
Qoise  Reville's  had  told  him  that  Jacqueline  had  in- 
herited a  fortune  independently  of  her  mother.  This 
knowledge  gave  him  some  hope,  and  he  saw  future 
visions  of  delight  in  which  Jacqueline,  magnifi- 
cently dowered,  had  suddenly  become  the  very  fiancee 
whom  his  mother  herself  had  so  often  dreamed  of 
for  her  son's  wife.  But  after  some  investigation  he 
had  been  assured  that  even  that  fortune  amounted 
but  to  about  two  hundred  thousand  francs — quite  an 
inadequate  sum.    For  what  was  such  a  dowry  com- 


THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE     i8i 

pared  to  the  million  francs  which  his  parents  consid- 
ered themselves  entitled  to  demand,  when  his  pend- 
ing diplomatic  appointment  should  have  become  an 
accomplished  thing?  So  Jerome  had  weighed  all  pros 
and  cons  during  these  weeks  of  reflection,  and  re- 
luctantly had  come  to  the  conclusion  that  he  could 
never  marry  Jacqueline,  not  even  broach  the  subject 
of  a  marriage  with  her  to  his  parents.  For  they  would 
never  consent  to  receive  so  impecunious  a  bride  to 
bear  their  name,  and  to  share  the  brilliant  fortunes  of 
their  son.  For  later  on,  after  their  death,  Jerome 
himself  would  inherit  their  own  considerable  property. 

No;  Jacqueline  was  not  for  him,  at  least  legiti- 
mately. He  had  even  resigned  himself  to  try  and  for- 
get her,  when  fortune  had  led  him  up  once  more  to 
the  Brents'  hospitable  dining-room.  He  had  intended 
allowing  some  considerable  time  to  elapse  before  meet- 
ing his  hosts  of  Les  Peiipliers  again.  But  Mrs.  Brent, 
returning  from  a  walk,  had  met  him  on  the  Boulevard 
St.  Michel  almost  at  her  own  door,  and  insisted  on 
his  appearance  at  her  next  reception.  So  Jerome 
told  himself  that  Fate  held  him  in  her  web,  when  he 
found  himself  looking  into  the  luminous  depths  of 
Jacqueline's  love-lit  eyes  again,  and  wishing  madly 
that  he  might  have  the  right  of  kissing  her  soft  eye- 
lids once  more. 

"You  will  come — ^Jacqueline — won't  you?  You 
know  you  promised  me  in  the  wood,  in  the  moonlight. 
Didn't  you?  Surely  you  would  not  go  back  upon 
that  sacred  promise — given  in  our  dear  woods. 
Would  you?"     .     .     . 


182    THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

"Yes,"  murmured  Jacqueline,  white  to  the  lips. 
"  Yes — I  know  I  promised.  But,"  .  .  .  and  she 
lingered  over  words  .  .  .  "but,  it  is  not  right 
you  know     .     .     .     it  is  not  right     ..." 

"But  are  you  not  free?  Can  you  not  do  as  you 
wish?"  he  insisted.  "What  does  your  independence 
mean  to  you  if  you  cannot  use  it  when  you  will?  " 

"  Jerome  .  .  .  dearest  .  .  ..  I  am  afraid. 
.  I  never  thought  I  should  say  such  a  thing. 
But  it  is  true    ...     I  am  afraid.     ..." 

*'  Afraid?'  Of  what?  Not  of  me,  ma  bien-aimeef" 
he  murmured  gently  as  he  breathed  over  her  hair. 
She  sat  in  the  dim  shadow  of  a  palm-tree  that  almost 
him  them  from  view  beneath  its  swaying  branches. 

"  No  .  .  .  not  of  you  .  .  .  but  of  both 
of  us  .  .  .  Jerome  .  .  .  "  and  her  voice  lin- 
gered loving  over  his  name. 

Jerome  caught  her  hand  and  made  a  motion  as  if 
to  draw  her  to  him,  but  he  gently  released  her  and 
stood  upright  at  once — seeing  Oliver  approach  them 
from  afar  with  a  look  of  disturbed  concern  on  his 
face. 

"  Remember,  I  have  your  promise " — ^he  managed 
to  whisper,  as  Oliver  drew  near.  "  I  shall  expect  you 
on  Wednesday  about  three  .  .  >  remember,  you 
have  promised.     .      .      .  " 

As  Oliver  approached  them,  something  in  Jacque- 
line's attitude  struck  a  chill  in  his  heart.  He  was 
very  grave  when  he  spoke  to  her. 

"  Jacqueline,  you  mother  is  asking  for  you.  I  think 
she  has  a  headache  and  wants  to  go  home." 


THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE    183 

Jacqueline  hurriedly  said  good-bye  to  the  two  young 
men,  and  sped  over  to  her  mother's  side. 

"What  a  pity  I  can't  marry  her,"  murmured 
Jerome  to  himself  as  he  watched  Jacqueline  moving 
across  the  room.    "Quel  dommage!" 

Oliver  looked  at  Jerome  intently,  and  for  a  few 
minutes  he  was  silent.  He  seemed  to  be  trying  to 
probe  the  young  man's  brain. 

"Well,  Oliver!  Why  that  scowl?"  asked  Jerome, 
laughing,  as  he  turned  towards  him  and  met  his 
gaze. 

"Oh!  Did  I  scowl!"  said  Oliver  casually.  And 
without  any  further  excuse  and  turning  his  back  upon 
his  friend,  he  went  out  into  the  hall  to  help  Fran- 
goise  and  Jacqueline  to  put  on  their  cloaks. 

"If  I  thought  you  were  blackguard  enough  to  mean 
any  harm  to  Jacqueline,  I'd  thrash  you  like  a  hound," 
Oliver  said  to  himself  as  he  turned  his  back  on 
Jerome. 

And  he  resolved  to  watch  over  Jacqueline  and  over 
Jerome  too. 

On  the  following  Wednesday  afternoon,  Oliver  was 
painting  in  his  studio.  Presumably  Jerome  d'Ablis 
was  likewise  engaged  next  door.  When  Oliver  had 
returned  to  his  work  after  lunch,  he  had  met  Jerome 
in  the  corridor,  who  passed  by  him  with  a  nod,  and 
entered  his  own  studio  carrying  divers  small  parcels. 
Now  whenever  Oliver  saw  Jerome  laden  with  white 
paper  daintily  tied-up  parcels,  he  knew  that  these 
contained  cakes  and  fruit,  and  that  therefore  Jerome 
was  expecting  some  special  visitor  to  tea  during  the 


i84    THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE 

afternoon.  But  the  two  men  had  exchanged  no 
words.  For  some  subtle  yet  inexphcable  reason, 
Oliver  did  not  feel  well  disposed  towards  Jerome  at 
this  moment,  and  Jerome  himself  did  not  seem  to  pay 
any  attention  to  Oliver's  silence.  He  knew  Oliver  to 
be  a  dfole  d'Angliche  and  given  to  moods.  The 
two  men  had  therefore  locked  themselves  up  each  in 
his  own  studio. 

As  the  weather  became  rather  dark  towards  three 
o'clock,  Oliver,  who  had  been  hard  at  work  ever  since 
he  had  returned  from  lunch,  crossed  to  the  window 
to  pull  up  the  blinds.  As  he  stood  there  he  saw  a 
closed  cab  draw  up  to  the  door,  and  a  woman,  thickly 
veiled,  get  out. 

"  Doubtless  Jerome's  visitor,"  he  muttered  to  him- 
self angrily,  shrugging  his  shoulders  in  disgust.  He 
was  about  to  leave  the  window  and  return  to  his  easel, 
when  the  lady  who  had  occupied  the  cab  turned 
round  to  pay  the  cabman.  Something  familiar  in  her 
silhouette  struck  him  at  once.  She  was  dressed  in  a 
dark  blue  coat  and  skirt  and  wore  a  wide-brimmed 
felt  hat  to  match.  Over  this  was  closely  tied  a  very 
thick  black  veil.  The  driver  having  received  his  fare 
the  lady  walked  into  the  building.  There  was  no  mis- 
taking the  carriage  and  "  allure  "of  that  figure.  It 
was  Jacqueline  Reville! 

At  first  Oliver  could  not  repress  a  movement  of 
delight.  It  was  evident  that  Jacqueline  was  coming 
to  see  him,  to  bring  some  message  from  her  mother 
probably.  .  .  .  Yet!  .  .  .  That  was  un- 
likely    .      .      .  !     Madame    Reville    would    hardly 


THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE     185 

send  Jacqueline  alone  to  his  studio  and,  besides,  he 
knew  that  the  young  girl  usually  attended  a  lecture 
with  Nelly  every  Wednesday  from  half-past  two  to 
half-past  three  o'clock.  But  then  why  was  Jacque- 
line coming  into  the  house?  For  it  was  certain  that 
she  was  coming  in.  .  .  .  There  was  her  light 
step  on  the  stair  .  ;.  ,.  almost  at  his  thresh- 
old.    .     .     . 

He  sprang  towards  the  entrance  and  waited  for  her 
knock.  .  .  .  But  she  brushed  past.  . 
Close  up  against  the  door-post  he  could  hear  her 
furtive  movements,  and  the  swish  of  her  skirts  quite 
distinctly.  .  .  .  But  was  he  not  dreaming?  .  .  . 
Was  not  the  door  of  the  studio  next  to  his  being 
opened  gently  .  .  .  stealthily  .  .  .  ?  Ah! 
another  had  watched  her  arrival  too!  .  .  .  Yet 
for  one  more  instant  the  mad  hope  held  him  that  she 
had  made  a  mistake  .  .  .  would  discover  her  er- 
ror and  return  to  his  studio.  .  .  .  But  no! 
Oliver  had  heard  Jerome's  door  open  wider  and  more 
cautiously  and  then  close  suddenly  again.  And  a 
swift  rushing  noise  of  skirts  over  the  threshold  in- 
dicated that  Jacqueline  had  passed  into  the  next  room. 

"Great  God!" 

So  the  scoundrel  had  inveighled  even  her  to  his 
lair  where  so  many  others — light  women  and  unfaith- 
ful wives — ^had  gone  before !  .  .  .  Was  no  woman 
sacred  to  him  then?  She  was  there — ^Jacqueline — 
talking  to  Jerome  d'Ablis,  standing  close  to  him,  per- 
haps clasped  in  his  arms  allowing  him  to  caress  her 
even !    Paugh !    The  mere  thought  drove  Oliver  mad 


i86    THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

and  flinging  all  sense  of  delicacy  to  the  winds,  in  his 
wild  instinct  he  sprang  towards  the  thin  partition  that 
divided  the  studios.  But  almost  as  suddenly  he 
sprang  back  again  to  the  middle  of  the  room, 
ashamed  at  the  thought  of  playing  the  spy!  .  .  . 
But  he  could  not  help  straining  every  nerve  to  catch 
the  slightest  sounds  from  the  next  room.  .  .  .  He 
listened  again  in  anguish.  There  was  no  sound.  .  .  . 
All  was  silent,  terribly  silent.  Yet,  Jacqueline  and 
Jerome  were  there  together  and  alone!  Ah!  God! 
To  be  so  helpless!     .     .     . 

Poor  Oliver  sank  down  into  the  chair  before  his 
easel  and  almost  moaned  aloud  in  his  despair !    .    .    . 

When  Jacqueline  arrived  at  Jerome's  door — ^the 
fourth  door  on  the  right  of  the  corridor — for  long 
before  he  had  explained  that  to  her  so  she  could  make 
no  mistake  when  she  came  to  him,  she  has  not  even 
to  knock,  for  Jerome,  as  Oliver  had  surmised,  had 
seen  her  drive  up  in  her  cab  and  was  waiting  for  her 
behind  the  door,  which  he  opened  gently  and  myste- 
riously as  she  was  about  to  strike  for  admittance.  She 
entered  furtively  and  found  herself  suddenly  drawn 
into  a  very  deep,  dark  embrace,  and  before  she  could 
extricate  herself  from  its  delicious  softness — which 
was  so  tenderly  enthralling  that  she  could  not  resist  it 
— a  warm,  moist  mouth  was  pressed  to  hers  and  a 
gentle  hand  laid  across  her  eyes,  that  seemed  instantly 
to  blot  out  all  the  realities  of  life.  Deeply  and  exc[uis- 
itely  she  felt  herself  falling  into  an  abyss  of  delight, 
and  after  a  few  tremulous  moments  of  virginal  fear, 
allowed  her  own  lips  to  respond  eagerly  to  that  burn- 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE     187 

ing  kiss  which  seemed  to  draw  her  heart  out  from  her 
body.  All  the  secret  wonder  of  life  had  become  sud- 
denly divulged  to  her — made  vividly  clear  at  once. 
Jacqueline  was  never  the  same  girl  after  that  hour. 
She  had  touched  the  depths  of  human  bliss  and  the 
mystic  mystery  of  human  love  and  sorrow  were  re- 
vealed to  her.     .      .      . 

Slowly  and  reluctantly  Jerome  separated  his  lips 
from  hers,  and  then  removing  his  hand  from  her  eyes, 
allowed  her  to  see  the  light  again  and  to  come  back 
to  the  reality  of  existence.  But  she  was  bewildered 
and  trembling  still  with  fear  of  the  new  emotions  that 
had  arisen  within  her.  Tears  sprang  to  her  eyes,  but 
though  she  smiled  faintly,  as  if  to  reassure  him,  she 
yet  remained  speechless  with  marvelling  joy. 

And  Jerome,  seeing  her  standing  thus  before  him, 
desemparee  and  ignorant  as  a  child  of  the  real  signifi- 
cance of  the  emotions  which  were  troubling  her, 
looked  into  her  wondering  eyes  and  realized  the  crime 
he  was  committing.  Alas!  .  .  .  This  indeed 
was  no  practised  flirt  adding  yet  another  victory  to 
a  long  list  of  coquetries.  No.  Here  was  in  truth  a 
pure  young  girl  whose  lips  had  never  been  touched 
by  other  mortal  lips,  and  whose  body  and  soul  alike 
were  unimpaired.  .  .  .  Ah!  the  joy  of  being 
loved  thus  by  so  fresh,  young  and  innocent  a  creature  I 
Yet — to  have  decided — implacably,  relentlessly — in 
one's  own  mind  that  one  must  not  marry  her,  because 
of  her  lack  of  money!  For  one  rapid  instant  Jerome 
admitted  to  himself  what  a  cad  he  was!  But  a  furi- 
ous instinct  overthrew  his  moral  reasoning  once  more 


188    THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

and  a  blinding  desire  to  gain  his  end  assailed  him. 
He  argued  with  himself.  Was  he  not  young  too? 
Was  he  not  in  the  full  strength  of  his  youth,  and  had 
he  not  a  right  to  love  and  to  live?  Had  he  not  the 
right  to  take  this  precious  gift  which  almost  offered 
itself  to  him     .     .     .  ? 

For  Jerome  read  Jacqueline  better  than  she  could 
read  herself,  and  knew  that  in  the  sudden  mysterious 
awakening  to  the  realization  of  emotion  in  her,  she 
was  at  that  moment  entirely  at  his  mercy.  He  had 
but  to  ask  for  her  to  give.  .  .  .  All  the  instinc- 
tive, almost  childish  coquetry  witH  which  at  first  she 
had  almost  unconsciously  beguiled  him,  had  gone 
now,  had  disappeared  like  the  mist  before  the  morn- 
ing sun.  She  was  his  victim — ^his  willing,  happy  vic- 
tim.   .    .    . 

Jacqueline  was  still  standing  where  she  stood  when 
he  had  folded  her  to  his  heart.  She  was  panting  a 
little,  and  half  dazed,  and  was  resting  her  hand  upon 
a  small  table,  as  if  for  support  against  her  too  riotous 
emotions.  Jerome  found  no  words  to  say  to  her,  so 
he  folded  her  once  more  unresisting  into  his  arms. 
But  this  time  he  did  not  attempt  to  kiss  her.  He  lifted 
her  face  to  his,  and  looked  into  her  eyes  deeply — so 
deeply  that  Jacqueline's  awed  gaze  fell  before  his — 
and  as  his  kiss  had  drawn  to  him  all  the  passion  of 
her  young  body,  so  did  his  insistent,  penetrating  gaze 
draw  to  him  all  the  passion  of  her  young  soul.  Then 
slowly,  gently,  tenderly,  as  if  to  ask  forgiveness  for 
his  too  passionate  caresses,  he  pressed  her  closed  eye- 
lids with  his  lips  again.     In  the  delicious  darkness. 


THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE     189 

Jacqueline  felt  that  she  was  passing  into  anotHer  more 
ecstatic  state. 

"Pardon — pardon!"  he  murmured  softly.  Then, 
as  if  to  allow  her  to  recover  herself,  he  gently  pushed 
her  into  an  armchair  and  knelt  at  her  feet. 

"  Say  you  have  forgiven  me,  mon  cher  amour, 
.     .     .     Say  so,  please." 

"Forgiven  you?"  murmurs  Jacqueline  wonder- 
ingly.  "Forgiven  you!  Why?''  And  her  hand 
wandered  lovingly,  eternally,  over  the  rings  of  dark 
hair  that  lay  on  his  forehead.  "Forgiven  you,  Je- 
rome!   Why?" 

"  Ah,  Jacqueline — ^you  divine  child !  "  he  murmured 
shame-facedly,  as  he  bent  his  head  again,  and  kissed 
her  gloved  hands.     .     .     . 

Then  making  a  great  effort  to  dissipate  the  too 
voluptuous  atmosphere  that  encircled  them  both  he 
rose,  and  drawing  Jacqueline  up  to  her  feet  said  more 
lightly : 

"  Allonsl  Get  up  and  take  off  your  things  and  let 
us  have  tea.  See,  I've  prepared  everything  .  .  ." 
And  he  pointed  to  a  small  table  at  the  other  end  of 
the  room  upon  which  he  had  prepared  all  sorts  of 
dainty  cakes  and  biscuits  and  the  crystallised  fruits 
and  sweetmeats  of  all  kinds,  which  were  contained 
in  the  parcels  that  Oliver  had  seen  him  carry  to  his 
studio. 

"  See,  there  is  tea  and  wine,  and  all  sorts  of  good 
things  to  eat.  Let  me  give  you  a  tiny  glass  of  this 
Vin  de  Muscat.  It  will  do  you  good.  Will  you?" 
And  as  Jacqueline  made  no  reply  and  had  sunk  back 


I90    THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

again  into  her  chair  after  having  removed  her  hat, 
cloak  and  gloves  and  placed  them  on  the  small  smok- 
ing-table  close  to  the  divan,  Jerome  poured  out  a 
glassful  of  the  delicate  fluid  and  falling  upon  one  knee 
again  he  offered  it  to  her: 

"  Do  drink  this,  cherie."  And  in  a  still  more  ten- 
der tone  he  added — "to  please  me."  :.  .  .  His 
voice  sounded  as  music  to  Jacqueline,  who  was  still 
dazed  and  trembling. 

She  allowed  him  to  put  the  glass  to  her  lips,  and 
drank  the  golden,  rosy  liquid. 

Instead  of  going  to  her  head,  the  wine  seemed  to 
have  suddenly  steadied  her  nerves.  She  laughed  a 
little. 

"  Ah !  That  has  done  me  good.  ;..  .  .  Now  show 
me  your  pictures."  And  as  she  spoke  she  rose  from 
her  chair  and  smoothed  and  patted  her  hair,  straight- 
ening out  the  laces  of  her  blouse  also.  She  swayed  a 
little  giddily  as  she  spoke. 

"  Isn't  it  rather  warm  here  ?  I  feel  better  though 
without  my  cloak.     .     .     .  " 

"  Is  the  light  too  strong?  Perhaps  you  have  a 
slight  head-ache?"  suggested  Jerome. 

"  Yes,  I  think  perhaps,  I  have.     .      .     .  " 

And  Jerome  crossing  the  room  dropped  a  crimson 
silken  curtain  over  the  lower  panes  of  the  window, 
leaving  his  studio  in  a  warm  half-shadow.  It  was  a 
very  dull  wintry  day,  and  the  light  was  already  fail- 
ing. But  the  bright  wood  fire  threw  out  its  own  red 
glow  and  so  illumined  the  room. 

Jerome,  to  woo  Jacqueline,  took  a  mandolin  from 
the  wall  and  began  to  play  softly — 


THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE    191 

"  Hier  comme  aujourd'hui, 
Ce  soir,  comme  demain, 

Je  f adore    .     .     . " 

The  notes  fell  gently  on  the  silence,  and  the  room 
was  filled  with  the  music  of  his  rather  sweet  baritone 
voice. 

Oliver  in  the  next  room  was  in  agony,  though  the 
sound  of  the  music  reassured  him  somewhat.  Oh !  to 
feel  that  the  woman  he  loved  was  in  that  room  alone 
with  the  man  next  door,  who  had  lured  so  many 
women  there  during  his  long,  idle  afternoons.  .  .  . 
For  how  many  had  he  not  enticed  to  their  destruction 
with  those  dulcet  notes?  Oliver  knew  that  Jerome's 
voice  and  guitar  were  two  of  his  most  convincing 
weapons.  Jerome  had  often  boasted  to  him  that 
few  women  who  came  as  far  as  his  studio  could  re- 
sist them.  Of  course  those  other  women  knew  well 
what  they  were  doing  when  they  accepted  the  invita- 
tions of  Jerome  d'Ablis.  They  were  practised  co- 
quettes, amused  at  the  idea  of  a  small  intrigue  with 
a  popular,  handsome  fellow,  the  leader  of  all  the 
smart  cotillons  of  the  season.  But  Jacqueline  I  His 
innocent,  sweet  love,  who  believes  herself  to  be  so 
worldly-wise  because  she  has  learnt  about  life  in  books 
— but  who  in  reality  is  so  ignorant,  so  innocent ! 

"...  Nos  dmes  pour  toujours  sont  unies. 
Nous  avons  epele  le  livre  des  amours  iniinies. 
Et  je  ne  vols  plus  rien,  que  Veclair  de  tes  yeux, 

pleins  de  fievres! 
Viens!  Je  veux  soupirer  les  derniers  aveux,  sur  tes 

levres    ..     .     ." 


,192    THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

Jerome's  soft,  sweet  voice  was  trembling  with  emo- 
tion. Oliver  could  hear  its  vibrations  and  Jacqueline 
was  listening  too,  and  perhaps  allowing  herself  to  be 
convinced  by  the  specious  words.     . 

Then  suddenly  the  music  ceased  and  Oliver  could 
hear  nothing  more.  .  .  .  Yet  in  a  terror  of  sus- 
pense he  strained  his  ear  to  catch  any  sound,  waiting 
attentively  .  .  .  breathlessly.  ,.;  ..  .  He  had 
momentarily  forgotten  that  he  was  almost  eaves- 
dropping. He  could  only  think  of  Jacqueline's  dan- 
ger. So  eager  was  he  to  catch  even  the  slightest 
sound  from  the  next  room,  that  with  difficulty  he  re- 
strained himself  from  bounding  over  again  to  the  par- 
tition to  press  his  ear  to  it!  He  crouched  down  be- 
fore his  easel,  his  head  in  his  hands,  rooted  to  the 
spot  with  firm  will.     .    ;.     . 

"  I  ought  to  go  away,  I  know  I  ought  to  leave  the 
building  .  .  .  and  not  stay  here  listening.  .  .  . 
But  I  can't  leave  her  in  there  alone  with  that  scoun- 
drel. ...  I  must  deliver  her,"  he  told  himself  a 
thousand  times,  torn  between  his  fear  for  her  and  his 
sense  of  honour. 

A  sweat  of  agony  broke  out  on  his  forehead.  What 
could  he  do  to  save  her?  In  her  terrible  danger  he 
felt  himself  so  powerless  to  help.  Could  he  really 
do  nothing!  It  was  not  only  jealousy  he  felt,  but 
agonised  fear  for  her  safety.  He  must  find  some 
means  of  freeing  her  from  the  trap  that  had  been  set 
for  her  guilelessness.  Suddenly  a  low  laugh  could 
be  heard  ringing  distinctly,  sonorously  through  the 
thin  partition.    It  was  the  low,  yet  light  laugh  of 


THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE    193 

happy  lovers  and  was  followed  by  a  long — alas ! — ^too 
eloquent  silence!  This  seemed  to  drive  Oliver  mad. 
He  felt  that  no  force  could  prevent  him  from  rising 
and  striking  the  wall  with  his  impotent  fists  and  curs- 
ing the  cruel  seducer.  .  .  .  But  to  stifle  his  own 
cry  of  distress  he  had  pressed  his  clenched  teeth  to 
his  own  knuckles.  .  .  .  Yet  he  must  save  her 
.     .     .    now    .     .     .    at  once!   Yet  by  what  means ? 

Then  suddenly  an  idea  came  to  him!  It  took  hold 
of  his  mind  instantaneously  and  held  it  fast.  Almost 
in  the  same  breath  and  without  a  single  moment's  re- 
flection or  doubt,  he  determined  to  put  it  into  execu- 
tion. He  lost  not  an  instant,  but  catching  up  his  coat, 
his  hat,  and  his  walking-stick  in  a  thrice  and  open- 
ing the  door  of  his  studio  softly,  he  drew  it  as  softly 
to,  and  then  noiselessly  glided  down  the  long  corridor 
and  the  single  flight  of  stairs.  Luck  came  to  his  aid 
for  as  he  reached  the  door  he  saw  an  empty  cab  pass- 
ing in  the  street.  He  hailed  it  at  once,  and  bidding 
the  driver  wait  outside  for  him,  leapt  back  up  the 
stairs  and  down  the  corridor  in  haste,  as  if  greatly 
hurried  and  heedless  now  of  the  noise  he  was  making. 
Then  he  stopped  abruptly  before  the  door  of  Jerome's 
studio,  and  lifted  his  stick  to  strike  for  admittance. 

After  Jerome  had  sung  his  song  to  Jacqueline,  she 
smilingly  thanked  him  and  then  rising  from  the  divan 
where  she  had  been  half  reclining  among  the  cush- 
ions, began  to  examine  the  pictures  upon  the  walls  of 
the  studio.  As  she  stood  before  him,  gazing  upwards, 
her  head  raised,  her  slim  throat  outstretched,  the  nape 
of  her  neck  under  its  shining  mass  of  upraised  hair 


194    THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

rose  above  the  laces  of  her  net  blouse.  It  was  cov- 
ered with  tiny  tendrils  of  golden  hair,  and  Jerome 
looking  at  her  back  turned  erect  thus  before  him,  lost 
his  head,  and  in  an  instant  rushed  to  her  and  before 
she  could  see  him  or  even  realize  that  he  was  near 
her,  he  had  drawn  her  into  his  embrace,  had  entwined 
his  arms  around  her  supple  waist  and  madly,  passion- 
ately was  kissing  the  back  of  her  neck  just  where  the 
tiny  rings  of  hair  were  so  alluringly  golden.  She, 
suddenly  frightened  at  being  drawn  off  her  feet  un- 
awares, tried  to  struggle;  but  in  vain.  She  had  lost 
her  balance  so  unexpectedly  that  he  had  been  able  to 
draw  her  back  on  to  the  divan  among  the  numerous 
soft  cushions  before  she  could  even  protest  in  self- 
defence.  He  did  not  speak,  but  seemed  suddenly 
bereft  of  his  senses  and  began  kissing  her  ruthlessly, 
passionately,  biting  her  hair  and  frantically  crushing 
her  breast  with  his  fierce  lithe  hands.  She  was  ter- 
ribly frightened  and  suddenly  proudly  revolted.  She 
was  no  longer  in  his  power  as  she  had  been  in  the  brief 
delicious  emotion  of  his  first  kiss.  With  all  her 
might  she  strove  to  get  free.  He  had  managed  to 
twist  around  her  slight  body  and  had  lost  all  control 
over  himself  as  he  mercilessly  crushed  her  to  him,  his 
fierce  strength  overpowering  her.  He  made  a  desper- 
ate effort  to  catch  up  her  lips  with  his  and  mean- 
while as  she  had  so  far  successfully  evaded  him  he 
murmured  mad,  passionate  words  to  her. 

"  Jacqueline  .  .  .  my  love  .  .  .  my  darl- 
ing .  .  .  mon  amour  .  .  .  Give  yourself 
to  me.    I  love  you  and  you  love  me  too.    Though  we 


THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE     195 

cannot  marry,  we  can  love.  We  have  a  right  to  hap- 
piness. We  are  both  young  and  ardent.  Why  should 
we  not  be  happy  together?  Oh!  Jacqueline!  You 
are  so  wise,  so  clever,  so  superior  to  other  girls — 
surely  you  have  none  of  their  conventional  prejudices? 
We  can  be  all  in  all  to  each  other,  Jacqueline!  No 
one  need  ever  know  our  secret.  Cherie. 
Listen  to  me     ...     to  your  lover     .     .     . " 

But  Jacqueline,  still  terrified,  was  quivering  now, 
not  only  with  fear  but  with  sudden  recoil  and  disgust. 
The  man's  passionate  fury  was  too  horrible,  too 
brutal!  She  struggled  wildly.  Her  love,  her  emo- 
tion, her  tenderness — all  were  instantaneously  trans- 
formed into  a  sickening  repulsion,  a  desperate  hate! 
In  her  clear  mind,  even  at  this  moment,  she  saw  vividly 
what  was  Jerome's  plan.  And  she  despised  him  at 
once. 

"  Let  me  go  .  .  ,.  let  me  go  .  .  . "  she 
cried  furiously.  "I  do  not  love  you.  I  hate  you. 
...     I  loathe  you.     .     .     .     You  coward  I " 

In  her  impotent  yet  gallant  defence  of  herself  she 
appeared  even  more  desirable  to  him  than  before.  He 
had  lost  all  sense  of  shame  and  was  determined  to 
gain  his  end. 

"  Jacqueline    ...    7^  f  adore    .     .     .  "  he  im- 
plored.    .      .      .     "  I  will  do  anything  you  wish,  if 
you  will  only  consent     .      .      .     only  yield  to  me 
.     ma  cherie."     . 

But  Jacqueline  was  now  infuriated.  She  gathered 
together  all  her  forces  of  mind  and  of  muscle  and 
managed  to  rise  from  the  divan.    Even  in  her  blind 


196    THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

ignorance  of  men,  she  realized  that  Jerome  would 
indeed  have  sacrificed  her  to  one  instant  of  self- 
gratification  ;  with  all  her  strength  she  battled  against 
him.  Her  hair  was  unbound,  dishevelled ;  her  bodice 
torn;  one  of  the  sleeves  of  her  net  corsage  was 
rent  in  two;  and  yet  she  fought  desperately,  regard- 
less of  all  save  her  determination.  In  a  moment  of 
aberration,  as  if  to  force  her  against  herself  to  do 
his  will,  Jerome,  winding  his  arm  tightly  around  her 
slim  waist,  made  an  effort  to  throw  her  off  her  feet 
once  more.  But  she,  equally  maddened,  seized  hold 
blindly  of  the  first  weapon  at  hand,  which  happened 
to  be  one  of  the  long  hat-pins  stuck  into  her  hat  that 
lay  on  the  small  smoking-table  near  the  divan,  and 
scarcely  conscious  of  her  own  act  drove  it  with  blind 
and  ruthless  fury — and  with  all  the  fierceness  of  a 
young  tigress — ^into  the  flesh  of  Jerome's  arm  that 
encircled  her. 

Strangely  enough,  he,  in  his  paroxysm,  felt  no  pain ; 
he  did  not  release  his  hold  upon  her,  but  drew  her 
closer  still.  Then  in  despair,  as  she  could  not  free 
herself,  she  cried  out  aloud  in  her  anguish,  instinct- 
ively to  that  supreme  human  help  that  never  yet  had 
failed  her: 

"Maman!     .     .     .     Maman!" 

And  immediately,  as  if  in  response  to  her  cry  of 
anguish,  there  was  a  loud  knock  at  the  door.  At  the 
sound  Jerome  suddenly  liberated  Jacqueline  and,  sway- 
ing from  side  to  side  like  a  drunken  man,  remained 
by  her  side  silent,  panting,  but  nevertheless  making  a 
desperate  effort  to  regain  some  calm.    The  knock  was 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    197 

again  repeated  and  he  listened  to  it  in  breathless 
terror. 

Jacqueline,  too,  was  motionless — speechless  with 
fear.  She  was  half- fainting  with  emotion,  disgust, 
horror.  Jerome  motioned  to  her  to  hide  herself  in 
the  small  dressing-room  at  the  back  of  the  studio  be- 
fore he  answered  the  summons,  but  she  with  similar 
mimic  refused  to  do  this  and  the  breathless  silence 
between  them  was  unbroken.  Again  another  knock 
sounded  upon  the  door,  this  time  louder  and  more 
determined. 

"Jerome!"  called  out  Oliver's  voice  in  a  clear 
though  subdued  whisper,  as  if  the  speaker  did  not 
wish  to  call  the  attention  of  the  other  tenants  of  the 
building.     "Jerome,  are  you  there?" 

A  sigh  of  relief  burst  from  Jacqueline. 

"  What  do  you  want  ? "  cried  out  Jerome  impa- 
tiently, angrily.  He  too  was  relieved  to  hear  that  the 
intruder  was  only  Oliver  Brent.  Miraculously,  his 
own  voice  was  level. 

"I  am  looking  everywhere  for  Mademoiselle  Re- 
ville.  Do  you  happen  to  know  where  she  is.  Her 
mother  is  very  ill  and  is  asking  for  her." 

A  stifled  scream  from  Jacqueline  came  in  imme- 
diate answer.  It  was  an  almost  unearthly  sound.  As 
Oliver  heard  it,  he  silently  rejoiced,  but  nevertheless 
he  continued: 

"I  have  been  looking  for  her  everywhere.  She  is 
not  at  the  Sorbonne.  Do  come  out  and  help  me  with 
the  search.  .  .  ..  Madame  Reville  may  be  dy- 
mg.     .     .     . 


198    THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

Another  half-strangled  shriek  from  Jacqueline 
struck  Oliver's  ear,  but  he  kept  his  own  voice  well  un- 
der control,  and  simulated  the  necessary  expression : 

"  Be  quick,  Jerome.     Open  the  door.     .     .     .  " 

There  was  another  pause,  during  which  Jerome 
made  frantic  signs  to  Jacqueline  to  go  and  hide  be- 
fore he  opened.  But  she  had  forgotten  everything 
in  the  world  except  that  her  mother  was  ill  and  wanted 
her.  In  that  one  supreme  moment  she  had  measured 
her  filial  love  and  found  it  strong.  Blindly  she 
rushed  towards  the  door.  Jerome  tried  to  intercept 
her  movements,  but  she  avoided  his  touch,  and  pushed 
him  aside  with  almost  surpassing  strength.  Then  she 
flung  the  door  wide  open  and  stood  breathless  on  the 
threshold  before  Oliver,  regardless  of  her  dishevelled 
hair,  of  her  torn  clothes,  of  everything,  and  cried  out 
to  him: 

"  What  has  happened  ?  Tell  me  quickly.  Take  me 
to  her  at  once." 

"I  don't  know  exactly.  .  .  .  A  fit,  I  think. 
Come  along.  .  .  .  She  is  asking  for  you.  .  .  .. 
Every  second  is  of  importance." 

And  while  Jerome  stood  by,  gazing  at  them  both 
almost  stupidly  as  if  not  understanding  what  was 
taking  place,  Oliver  rapidly  helped  Jacqueline  on  with 
her  cloak  and  hat,  and  collected  her  gloves,  her  um- 
brella and  muff  while  she  tied  the  thick  veil  once  more 
over  her  head.  Together  they  passed  out  of  the 
studio  leaving  Jerome  standing  breathless,  mute,  and 
half  dazed. 


THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE    199 

Not  a  word  had  been  spoken  between  the  two  men 
since  Jacqueline  had  opened  the  door. 

Oliver  put  Jacqueline  into  the  cab  that  was  wait- 
ing downstairs  and  stepped  in  after  her,  calling  out 
the  address  to  the  driver.  As  he  closed  the  door 
quickly,  a  sigh  of  relief  escaped  him  and  the  cab 
rolled  off  at  a  rapid  pace.  Jacqueline  leant  back 
against  the  cushions  of  the  Hacre.  She  was  almost 
unrecognisable.  Her  features  were  distorted,  and  sfie 
was  as  white  as  death  itself. 

"  Can't  you  tell  me  what  has  happened  to  maman?" 

*'  I  don't  know.  Wait  till  you  get  to  her."  Oliver 
answered  rather  curtly,  if  not  roughly.  Now  that  he 
held  her  safe  he  allowed  his  anger  to  get  the  better  of 
him.  But  as  Jacqueline's  sobs  broke  forth,  he  some- 
what relented. 

"Calm  yourself,  pray.  She  would  be  more  upset 
still  to  see  you  in  that  state."  He  looked  at  her  and 
for  the  first  time  she  saw  that  he  had  noticed  the  dis- 
order of  her  toilette,  of  which  she  herself  had  been 
momentarily  unconscious.  She  pushed  up  the  hang- 
ing strands  of  her  hair  beneath  her  hat  as  best  she 
could,  for  she  had  no  hairpins  left  in  her  coiffure; 
and  untying  the  thicker  veil  fastened  on  the  thinner 
one  which  was  rolled  up  in  her  muff  over  her  hat. 
This  she  securely  pinned  on  to  her  head.  She  at- 
tempted to  fasten  up  her  blouse  which  had  been  partly 
torn  open  and  smoothed  down  the  tattered  laces  to 
hide  them  beneath  the  revers  of  her  coat.  She  had 
wiped  her  face  with  her  handkerchief  and  there  would 


200     THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

have  been  no  traces  left  of  her  recent  tears,  were  it 
not  for  her  swollen  eyelids  and  tear-blistered  cheeks. 

Oliver  tried  to  soothe  her,  but  made  not  the  slight- 
est allusion  to  the  fact  of  having  found  her  in  Jerome's 
studio. 

And  more  slowly  now  the  cab  rolled  down  the 
Allee  de  I'Observatoire,  the  Boulevard  St.  Michel, 
and  over  the  bridge  of  the  same  name  to  the  busy 
streets  of  the  right  bank,  before  Oliver  spoke  again. 
Jacqueline  had  recovered  some  of  her  natural  calm 
and  was  breathing  more  regularly.  Her  thoughts 
dwelt  exclusively  upon  her  anxiety  for  her  mother. 
Momentarily  she  had  forgotten  her  terrible  experi- 
ence in  the  studio. 

But  now  Oliver  turned  towards  her,  and  taking  her 
two  trembling  hands  in  his,  addressed  her  in  a  voice 
in  which  emotion  was  successfully  controlled. 

"Jacqueline,  you  quite  believe  I  am  your  true 
friend,  do  you  not?  " 

"  Certainly,  I  do,"  replied  Jacqueline,  somewhat  be- 
wildered by  this  unexpected  question. 

"Then  you  must  forgive  me,  for  I  have  taken  a 
great  liberty  with  you.  But  I  had  no  other  means  of 
accomplishing  what  I  considered  it  was  my  duty  to 
accomplish."  Oliver  paused  for  a  moment,  and  flush- 
ing slightly,  resumed.  "  I  told  you  a  lie,  just  now. 
.  Your  mother  is  not  ill,  she  never  has 
been  ill  at  all.  .  .  .  She  is  quite  well  and  is 
probably  awaiting  your  return  now  and  making  tea 
in  your  salon  at  home,  ready  for  you  after  your 
lecture  at  the  Sorbonne." 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    201 

Oliver  paused  an  instant,  but  as  Jacqueline  was  too 
stunned  to  make  any  remark  or  even  to  understand 
completely  what  he  was  saying,  he  proceeded: 

"  For  you  are  supposed  to  have  been  all  the  after- 
noon at  the  Sorbonne.  Don't  forget  that.  It  is  likely 
that  your  mother  is  now  beginning  to  be  anxious,  for 
the  lecture  was  over  two  hours  ago,  and  she  always 
keeps  count  of  your  time.  But  you  have  apparently 
not  thought  of  that.  Compose  yourself,  my  dear," 
he  said  with  a  little  more  warmth,  seeing  Jacque- 
line's look  of  utter  imcomprehension.  "Compose 
yourself,  and  let  your  mother  think  that  you  have 
been  detained  all  this  afternoon  at  the  Sorbonne,  for 
some  reason  or  another." 

During  the  whole  of  Oliver's  speech  Jacqueline 
had  remained  dumfounded  with  astonishment.  It 
seemed  to  her  that  she  doubted  the  very  evidence  of 
her  own  ears.  For  yet  a  few  moments  she  was  speech- 
less. When  she  did  at  last  realize  what  Oliver  had 
done,  and  why  he  had  done  it,  her  very  first  instinct 
was  anger — ^blind,  furious,  instinctive  anger.  And 
she  was  the  more  infuriated  because  she  felt  herself 
in  the  wrong  and  knew  that  she  deserved  his  implied 
condemnation.  But  she  struggled  valiantly  against 
her  personal  mortification  before  she  would  allow  a 
word  to  pass  her  lips.  Yet,  even  then  it  burst  forth 
against  her  will  in  violent  revolt,  at  the  mere  thought 
that  some  one  had  dared  to  direct  her  actions — to  in- 
terfere with  her  supreme  independence — even  though 
she  were  in  the  wrong. 

"You  have  dared  to  do  this,  Oliver?"  she  ex- 


202    THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

claimed  at  last.     .     .     .     "You  have  dared  to  tell 
me  this  lie !     .      .      .     And  such  a  lie ! " 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  looking  her  straight  in  the  face 
and  proudly  acknowledging  his  falsehood.    "Yes." 

There  was  a  moment's  silence  during  which  Jac- 
queline and  Oliver  looked  at  one  another  like  two 
enemies.  But  it  was  Jacqueline's  eyes  that  fell  the 
first  with  shame  and  humiliation. 

"Yes,  Jacqueline;  I  have  dared  this  intervention 
in  your  affairs,  and  I  have  told  you  a  deliberate  lie. 
I  would  do  so  again,  were  it  necessary." 

"You  acted  from  pure  disinterested  motives,  I  sup- 
pose?"    Her  very  tone  was  a  taunt. 

"  I  acted  as  I  did  because  I  considered  it  my  duty 
to  save  you.     .     .     .  " 

"Indeed!    Your  duty!     .     .     .     And  to  save  me. 

How  very  generous!   .      .      .     No.     You 

deliberately  interfered  in  matters  that  did  not  concern 

you  in  the  least,  because  you  were  jealous!    That  is 

why!     .     .     .     Deny  it  if  you  can !     .     .     ." 

Oliver  bit  his  lip  and  forced  himself  into  silence.  A 
dull  crimson  stain  spread  over  his  features. 

For  a  few  moments  Jacqueline  w^as  inarticulate 
with  revolt,  anger  and  outraged  pride. 

"Please  understand,  that  I  shall  never     . 
never   forgive  you,    for  your    impertinent   interfer- 
ence." 

"I  am  sorry  if  that  is  so — ^but — ^now  that  I  have 
saved  you,  I  shall  not  claim  your  forgiveness.  I  am 
neither  repentant  nor  ashamed.     .     ..     .     And  as  I 


THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE    203 

have  already  told  you,  I  would  do  the  same  thing 
again,  were  it  necessary.     .      .      .  " 

"  I — ^too — should  do  the  same  again,  if  I  chose  to!" 
burst  forth  Jacqueline  angrily,  furiously. 
"  How  dare  you  judge  my  actions  and  interfere  in  my 
affairs  ?  I  go  where  I  please — when  I  please — and  as 
I  please.  ...  I  should  act  again  in  just  the  same 
way  to-morrow     .     .     .     if  I  wished!" 

"  No,  you  would  not,  Jacqueline,"  retorted  Oliver 
bluntly.  "  You  would  not  because  you  do  not  wish  to 
break  your  mother's  heart.  Did  you  not  call  out  for 
her  just  now,  in  your  dire  distress?  She  has  only 
you  in  the  world.  She  has  given  her  whole  life  to 
you,  and  has  founded  all  her  hopes  on  you  alone. 
.     .     .    You  surely  would  not  wish  to  kill  her!" 

Jacqueline  made  no  answer.  Before  Oliver's  calm 
authority,  his  serene  sense  of  responsibility,  she  was 
cowed.  Yet  so  strong  was  her  spirit  of  revolted  in- 
dependence, that  a  few  moments  later  she  burst  forth 
again  in  a  passion  of  still  more  concentrated  fury 
than  before,  seeking  to  wound  Oliver  as  deeply  as 
she  could: 

"I  thought  that  an  Englishman  would  scorn  to 
tell  a  lie!"  She  was  still  strugghng  with  all  her 
force  against  her  stupendous  anger,  but  her  accents 
were  haughtily  contemptuous.  Again  Oliver's  fair 
face  was  suffused  with  scarlet,  but  he  still  held  his 
own,  though  Jacqueline's  words  hurt  like  a  knife 
cleaving  through  healthy  flesh. 

"  An  Englishman  lies  when  a  lie  can  save  another 


204     THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE 

human  being!  There  are  certain  Hes  that  are 
noble." 

"A  lie  is  always  despicable!"  retorted  Jacqueline. 
"I  despise  a  man  who  resorts  to  such  means,  what- 
ever his  object  may  be!  Besides,  you  played  the 
eavesdropper  too!  You  must  have  listened  at  the 
keyhole     .     .     .  I" 

This  time  Oliver  winced  and  blushed. 

"I  did  not  listen  voluntarily.  ...  I  could 
not  help  knowing  you  were  there ! " 

"...  You  ought  to  have  gone  away  .  .  . 
out  of  the  house  .  .  .if  you  could  not  help 
hearing.  .  .  .  To  listen  complacently  was  to 
act  like  a  cad.  .  .  .1  despise  you,  and  I  refuse 
my  friendship  henceforth  to  an  eavesdropper  and  a 
liar!" 

She  spoke  bitterly,  scornfully,  and  sat  up  straight 
in  the  cab,  drawing  her  clothes  away  from  Oliver's 
contact  with  a  shrinking  gesture. 

Oliver  was  deathly  pale  now.  He  made  no  reply, 
but  very  deliberately  he  lowered  the  sash-window  of 
the  cab  and  motioned  to  the  driver  to  stop.  Raising 
his  hat  he  stepped  out  of  the  vehicle  on  to  the  pave- 
ment near  the  Louvre,  and  said  to  Jacqueline: 

"  Then  I  will  relieve  you  of  my  distasteful  presence. 
You  shall  not  see  me  again."  As  he  closed  the  door, 
he  repeated: 

"  Still  do  not  think  that  I  regret  what  I  have  done. 
,.,  .  ..  I  would  consider  myself  justified  in  having 
taken  any  means  to  save  you — or  indeed  any  other 
girl — from  a  bad  man's  clutches.     Good-bye." 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    205 

Jacqueline  did  not  speak,  neither  did  she  acknowl- 
edge his  bow.  Her  burning  shame  and  anger  almost 
seemed  to  stifle  her. 

Oliver,  having  paid  the  cabman,  told  him  to  drive 
on  and  the  cab  pursued  its  course  across  the  Place 
du  Theatre  Frangais,  down  the  Avenue  de  I'Opera 
and  so  on  towards  the  Place  Wagram. 


CHAPTER  XII 

Jacqueline  got  out  of  the  cab  with  a  quick,  hurried 
movement,  closing  the  door  carefully  after  her,  and 
turned  at  once  into  the  wide  doorway  of  the  house. 
She  felt  that  she  could  not  even  bear  the  scrutiny  of 
the  driver  at  that  moment.  He  had  seen  her  enter 
the  cab  with  Oliver,  who  had  almost  bundled  her  into 
its  refuge  at  the  door  of  the  studio,  when  she  was  so 
unshapely  a  mass  of  hastily  thrown-on  cloak,  hat  and 
veil,  that  he  would  hardly  have  recognised  her  now, 
comparatively  trim  and  tidy.  For,  by  the  help  of  the 
small  mirror  fixed  into  the  front  wall  of  the  cab,  she 
had  managed  to  restore  some  sort  of  order  into  her 
toilette.  Her  hat  at  least  was  now  pinned  on  straight 
and  her  coat  was  no  longer  awry,  nor  her  hair  hang- 
ing in  long  wispy  strands.  But  as  a  matter  of  fact, 
Oliver  having  paid  the  fare  when  he  had  left  the  cab, 
the  driver  took  not  the  slightest  interest  in  his  female 
passenger,  and  whipping  up  his  horse  disappeared 
round  the  corner  of  the  street  almost  before  Jacque- 
line had  entered  the  doorway.  Her  intention  was  to 
slip  in  quietly  with  her  latch-key,  to  her  own  room 
and  to  change  her  blouse  and  dress  her  hair  afresh 
before  appearing  before  her  mother  in  the  salon.  Un- 
fortunately she  had  forgotten  the  hour,  and  had  not 
reckoned  upon  her  mother's  anxiety. 

Frangoise  had  spent  the  afternoon  indoors  writing 
206 


THE    EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    207 

letters  and  making  a  new  blouse  for  her  daughter. 
But  about  the  middle  of  the  afternoon,  urged  to  som- 
nolence by  the  warmth  of  the  room,  she  had  fallen 
asleep  in  the  wide  leather  armchair  which  was  her 
special  corner  at  the  side  of  the  hearth.  Strangely 
enough,  at  about  five  o'clock — probably  at  the  very 
moment  when  Jacqueline  had  been  in  her  great  dis- 
tress— for  maternity  has  these  divine  promptings — 
Frangoise  had  been  suddenly  awakened  out  of  her 
slumbers  by  a  curious  sound  like  a  cry.  She  fancied 
she  recognised  Jacqueline's  voice  crying:  " Maman! 
Maman!"  When  she  had  awakened  completely  out 
of  her  sleep  and  was  once  more  in  the  full  possession 
of  her  senses,  she  had  persuaded  herself  that  it  was 
but  a  dream.  Yet  the  unpleasant  sensation  of  that 
strenuous  call  still  remained  with  her,  and  she  could 
not  shake  it  oflF.  She  rose  from  her  chair  and  in  order 
to  chase  all  morbid  thoughts  from  her  mind,  set  to 
preparing  the  tea  for  Jacqueline's  return.  As  the 
minutes  became  hours  and  Jacqueline  did  not  appear, 
Frangoise  became  really  anxious.  Had  her  dream 
anything  to  do  with  the  truth  ?  She  repelled  the  idea 
as  absurd  and  again  sat  down,  and  took  up  her  work 
once  more.  But  in  vain.  She  could  not  proceed  with 
it.  Neither  quietude  nor  repose  would  come  to  her. 
She  felt  nervous,  agitated  and  worried.  If  only  Jac- 
queline would  come  back!  What  could  possibly  be 
the  reason  of  her  tardiness? 

Since  Jacqueline  had  taken  the  habit  of  walking 
to  and  from  the  Sorbonne,  Frangoise  had  experienced 
many  such  torments  of  terror.    But  never  before  had 


2o8    THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

she  had  to  grapple  with  so  implacable  an  instinct  of 
danger  befalling  Jacqueline.  In  imagination  she 
saw  her  run  over  by  a  passing  motor  or  by  a  runaway 
horse,  or  having  twisted  her  ankle  as  she  crossed  the 
road.  All  the  terrors  that  beset  those  who  wait  anx- 
iously for  the  return  of  their  beloved  ones,  beset  her 
now.  Her  nerves,  strung  up  to  a  high  pitch  aided 
her  imagination  to  evoke  in  her  fevered  brain  all  the 
worst  horrors  that  may  befall  a  young  girl,  out  alone 
in  the  dusk,  in  the  streets  of  Paris.  She  remembered 
when  Jacqueline  had  begun  to  go  out  alone,  that  still 
more  terrible  fears  had  assailed  her  then.  Though 
she  had  practically  conquered  them  by  enforced  habit, 
she  could  not  rid  her  mind  of  their  horrors  at  this 
moment.  She  remembered  too,  the  day  that  Jacque- 
line had  told  her  she  wanted  to  have  her  own  latch- 
key like  her  friend  Nelly.  Frangoise  had  yielded  to 
Jacqueline's  pleadings,  for  she  could  refuse  her  dar- 
ling nothing,  but  it  had  been  entirely  against  her  will. 

"  You  don't  trust  me,  then  ?  "  Jacqueline  had  asked, 
when  her  mother  had  at  first  refused. 

"Oh  yes,  my  darling,  I  trust  you  implicitly;  but 
why  take  a  key  out  with  you,  when  you  know  that 
Clemence  or  myself  are  always  at  home  when  you  re- 
turn, and  at  whatever  hour  you  come  ?  " 

*'  I  want  to  have  it  even  if  as  only  a  symbol  of  my 
true  independence  of  movement,"  Jacqueline  had 
replied.  "No  harm  can  come  of  it.  I  want  to  feel 
myself  free — free  as  Nelly  is — to  come  in  and  to 
go  out  of  the  house.''  Of  course  Frangoise  had  im- 
plicit faith  in  Jacqueline  as  she  had  said.    Moreover, 


THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE    209 

the  fact  of  her  being  late  to-day  had  nothing  in  the 
least  to  do  with  her  possession  of  the  latch-key.  How 
silly  of  her  to  be  so  nervous  as  this !  Frangoise  argued 
— or  rather  tried  in  vain  to  argue  with  herself!  But 
if  only  Jacqueline  would  come  back!  What  could 
have  kept  her?  Frangoise  in  her  agony  of  suspense 
went  to  seek  Clemence  in  the  kitchen  and  questioned 
her.  "  Did  Mademoiselle  Jacqueline  tell  you  that  she 
would  be  back  later  than  usual  to-night?"  she  asked 
the  faithful  servant. 

"No,  madame.  Or  I  should  have  told  mddame 
myself,  long  before  now.  Madame  may  well  imagine 
that  I  understand  her  anxiety." 

"Then  what  can  be  keeping  her?"  She  addressed 
the  words  rather  to  herself  than  to  Clemence;  but 
Clemence  answered  them  nevertheless. 

"I  cannot  say,  madame;  unless  mademoiselle  has 
gone  on  to  tea  with  Miss  Nelly." 

"Perhaps  ...  she  has  .  .  ."  replied 
Frangoise,  trying  to  lure  herself  into  believing  that 
it  might  be  so. 

Frangoise  left  Clemence  to  her  cooking,  and  open- 
ing the  hall-door  went  out  on  to  the  landing.  She 
leaned  over  the  banisters  as  if  she  hoped  to  see  Jac- 
queline coming  upstairs.  But  the  staircase  was  empty. 
Then  she  went  back  to  the  sitting-room,  and  in  her 
agony  of  suspense  began  pacing  the  floor,  backwards 
and  forwards  like  a  tiger  in  its  cage. 

At  last  there  was  a  sound  of  wheels  upon  the  road, 
right  at  the  entrance  of  the  small  street  that  opened 
on  to  the  Boulevard  Malesherbes.    .With  her  hearing 


2IO    THE  EDUCATION  DP  JACQUELINE 

strained  to  the  utmost,  Frangoise  heard  it  approaching. 
How  slowly  it  seemed  to  come!  At  last  it  seemed 
to  be  drawing  nearer.  .  .  .  The  driver  was  evi- 
dently holding  in  his  horse.  Was  it  going  to  stop  at 
the  house?  Yes!  it  had  stopped  now.  But  even  be- 
fore there  was  time  for  the  door  of  the  cab  to  be 
flung  open,  Frangoise  was  out  on  the  landing  again 
leaning  over  the  banisters.  She  waited  breathlessly 
for  a  few  moments  that  seemed  to  be  hours.  Then, 
after  a  little  pause,  the  door  at  the  bottom  of  the  stairs 
opened  .  .  .  Some  one  then  came  in  with  a  rush 
— closed  the  door  gently,  carefully,  as  if  to  make  no 
noise.  .  .  .  Some  one — ^yes,  it  was  a  woman  for 
she  heard  a  swish  of  skirts — came  slowly,  very  slowly, 
up  the  stairs.  By  leaning  far  over  the  top  of  the  ban- 
isters, Frangoise  could  just  see  the  top  of  the  last 
flight  of  stairs.  She  waited  again  for  some  minutes 
that  seemed  to  her  aeons  of  time.  Then,  at  last,  she 
caught  sight  of  Jacqueline's  blue  hat! 

But  as  soon  as  her  eye  rested  on  her  daughter's 
form,  instinctively,  instantaneously  Frangoise  reined 
in  all  her  personal  emotions.  .  .  .  Jacqueline's 
face  was  half -buried  in  her  muff  as  she  slowly  and 
cautiously  mounted  the  next  flight,  and  Frangoise  from 
above  noted  the  very  evident  r'estraint  she  was  putting 
upon  herself  not  to  allow  her  steps  to  resound  through 
the  high  vault  of  the  staircase.  More  slowly  still 
she  ascended,  her  steps  seemingly  weighed  down  by 
her  thoughts.  All  her  mind  was  concentrated  upon 
the  one  point  of  gaining  her  room  before  she  could  be 


THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE    211 

discovered.  Frangoise  saw  her  take  Her  latch-key 
from  her  pocket  as  she  drew  nearer.  This  was  un- 
usual, for  although  Jacqueline  rejoiced  in  this  symbol 
of  her  independence,  she  never  used  it.  Frangoise 
understood  by  this  that  Jacqueline  intended  coming 
in  unnoticed.  She  had  therefore  something  to  conceal 
from  her  mother — she,  whose  actions  were  always 
so  spontaneously  transparent. 

At  this  discovery,  Frangoise's  first  movement  was 
to  withdraw  into  the  shadow  of  the  hall,  to  close  the 
door  noiselessly,  and  so  allow  Jacqueline  to  do  as  she 
pleased.  But  the  light  of  the  stair-lamp  struck  full 
upon  Jacqueline's  face  as  she  turned  upon  the  second 
landing,  revealing  to  Frangoise  a  mask  of  such  pa- 
thetic pain  upon  her  darling's  face,  that  instinctively 
she  took  a  step  forward  to  meet  her  half-way.  And 
immediately  she  abandoned  all  wish  to  question  Jac- 
queline. A  sudden  conviction  came  to  her  that  fresh 
demands  were  yet  about  to  be  made  upon  her  fund 
of  maternal  tenderness,  and  that  if  she  were  about 
to  suffer  new  wounds,  she  must  again  bear  their  pain 
in  silence  and  resignation.  For  it  was  evident  from 
her  expression  of  almost  tragic  grief  that  Jacqueline 
was  in  great  need  of  maternal  tenderness,  love  and 
pity.  Frangoise  at  once  determined  that  Jacqueline 
should  never  guess'  her  own  anxiety  on  her  account. 
So,  as  she  began  to  mount  the  third  flight  of  stairs, 
the  daughter  heard  her  mother's  voice  call  to  her, 
with  quite  a  natural  intonation: 

"  Ah,  Jacqueline !    At  last!    Come  in  and  have  your 


212    THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

tea  at  once,  darling.  I've  not  had  mine  yet ;  I've  been 
waiting  for  you." 

As  she  uttered  no  word  of  reproof  or  even  of 
astonishment  at  seeing  Jacqueline  return  at  half-past 
five  instead  of  four  o'clock,  the  tone  of  her  mother's 
voice  reassured  Jacqueline  at  once.  She  hurried  her 
steps  and  ran  up  the  stairs  more  quickly.  And  though 
she  did  not  raise  her  face  because  of  the  strong  light 
on  the  stairs  that  might  reveal  the  agony  upon  her 
features,  she  called  out  to  Frangoise  as  naturally  as 
she  could: 

"Yes,  I'm  badly  in  want  of  it.  I've  walked  back 
the  whole  way." 

The  lie  came  spontaneously  to  her  lips.  Fran- 
goise  trembled  with  renewed  fear.  But  she  thrust 
back  all  disquieting  thoughts  and  went  forward  to 
welcome  her  child  at  the  top  of  the  stairs.  And 
Jacqueline,  who  still  kept  her  face  hidden,  was  obliged 
nevertheless  to  renounce  all  thought  of  a  quiet  mo- 
ment of  restoration  in  her  own  room. 

Francoise  flung  her  arm  round  Jacqueline's  shoulder, 
and  making  no  remark  either  upon  her  appearance 
or  upon  her  shame-faced  mien,  led  her  into  the  bright 
sitting-room.  And  here  Jacqueline  felt  she  had  at 
last  reached  a  haven  of  rest!  The  warmth,  the  sub- 
dued light,  the  merry  sound  of  the  ever-boiling  kettle, 
the  luxurious  depth  of  the  wide  divan  and  their  cosy 
cushions,  and  above  all  the  presence  of  her  mother — 
her  dear  mother  well  and  in  perfect  health  whom 
she  had  believed  to  be  dying  only  a  few  moments 
ago— all  these  things  struck  her  sensibility  with  such 


THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE    213 

intensity  of  emotion  that  had  Franqoise's  own  atti- 
tude not  been  one  that  suggested  that  her  mind  was 
entirely  unruffled,  she  would  have  thrown  herself  into 
her  mother's  arms  at  once.  But  Fran^oise,  anxious 
to  put  Jacqueline  at  her  ease,  affected  the  most  blind 
inobser\'ance.  Nothing  in  Jacqueline's  attitude  or  ap- 
pearance was  natural — neither  the  hour  at  which  she 
had  returned,  nor  the  lie  she  had  told  her  so  spon- 
taneously and  so  unnecessarily.  But  Frangoise  had 
resolved  to  pretend  that  she  noticed  nothing  that  was 
unusual,  for  above  all  she  was  determined  not  to 
alarm  Jacqueline  nor  increase  her  present  emotions 
by  useless  questions.  Jacqueline  herself  seemed  sud- 
denly struck  dumb.  Standing  before  her  mother  now, 
in  the  full  view  of  her  scrutiny — she  would  have  found 
it  impo*ssible  to  lie  to  her  as  she  had  done  on  the 
stairs  with  averted  face.  But  she  offered  no  explan- 
ation of  her  conduct,  no  excuse  either,  and  Frangoise 
asked  her  none.  She  sank  into  a  chair  by  the  table 
and  begged  her  mother  to  pour  her  out  a  cup  of  tea. 
She  drank  it  thirstily,  and  then  began  pulling  off  her 
gloves.  The  heat  of  the  room  struck  her  as  intense, 
but  she  dared  not  take  off  her  cloak  because  of  the 
dilapidation  of  her  blouse  beneath  it. 

"  I  think  I  will  go  into  my  room  and  take  off  my 
things  now,"  she  said  after  a  few  moments  of  strange 
silence  between  the  two  women. 

"  Let  me  help  you  off  with  your  cloak,"  said  Fran- 
goise,  as  she  moved  towards  her,  and  held  out  her 
hands  to  pull  the  garment  from  her  daughter's  shoul- 
ders.   And  before  Jacqueline  could  stop  or  offer  any 


214     THE   EDUCATION  OE  JACQUELINE 

resistence,  Franqoise  had  drawn  her  cloak  from  her 
and  revealed  the  torn  and  crushed  blouse,  with  one  of 
its  sleeves  rent  in  two  and  its  lace  ruffles  hanging  in 
tattered  rags.  She  observed  all  these  details  in  per- 
fect silence,  steadfastly  refraining  from  all  comment. 
Now  that  her  darling  was  safe  within  the  shelter  of 
her  home,  nothing  else  mattered,  and  she  was  still 
firmly  determined  not  to  annoy  her  or  increase  her 
evident  emotion  by  her  own  insistence.  The  really 
important  thing  was  that  she  was  restored  to  her.  She 
drew  out  the  long,  jewelled  pins  from  Jacqueline's 
hat,  and  as  she  removed  it,  the  girl's  hair  fell  down 
about  her  shoulders,  released  from  its  protection,  the 
long  strands  from  which  the  hair-pins  had  disappeared, 
unrolled  to  their  full  length. 

And  still  Frangoise  made  no  comment. 

Holding  Jacqueline's  discarded  things,  she  followed 
her  across  the  salon,  and  beyond  the  hall  to  the  door 
of  her  daughter's  room.  She  noticed  the  listless, 
weary  movements  of  Jacqueline's  body — and  still  she 
was  mute.  But  once  within  the  shelter  of  her  own 
room  and  with  closed  doors,  Jacqueline,  as  if  her 
secret  were  indeed  too  heavy  to  bear  alone — suddenly 
allowed  her  nerves  to  relax  their  tension.  With 
a  cry  of  utter  desolation,  of  such  poignant  and  re- 
morseful anguish  that  it  re-echoed  in  her  mother's 
heart  and  brain  like  the  appeal  she  had  heard  in  her 
dream — Jacqueline,  unable  to  restrain  her  grief  any 
longer,  threw  herself  upon  hier  mother's  heart,  weep- 
ing the  bitterest  tears  of  her  life. 

" Maman!    ,     ,     .    Maman,  cherie!    .     .     ." 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    215 

And  Frangoise,  without  a  word  of  reproach  or  in- 
quiry folded  her  to  her  heart — leaned  over  her,  gath- 
ered her  deeper  and  deeper  into  the  bosom  that  had 
borne  her,  and  crooned  over  her  as  when  she  was  an 
innocent  babe.  For  a  very  long  time  they  remained 
thus,  their  tears  mingling,  locked  in  one  another's 
arms,  mother  and  daughter  in  perfect  love — in  perfect 
grief.  Then  Frangoise  murmured  gently,  soothingly, 
to  the  child  she  adored: 

''Ma  mie  cherie,  adoree,  give  me  your  sorrow,  and 
I  will  bear  it  for  you.  Put  your  burden  upon  my 
shoulders.  I  will  take  it  from  you.  It  shall  become 
mine  alone.  I  have  sworn  that  your  happiness  shall 
be  more  to  me  than  anything  in  the  world.  It  has 
been  the  cult  of  my  whole  existence.  It  will  be  so  to 
the  end." 

"Alas,  mother!  .  .  .  You  wanted  me  to  be 
free,  independent  and  experienced!  I  have  gained 
my  knowledge  to-day.  And  if  that  be  the  crown  of 
my  freedom  and  independence,  perhaps  it  has  not 
been  a  good  thing  for  me  to  have  it  at  all!  .  . 
For  I  have  not  used  it  well!" 

Then,  seated  on  her  bed,  her  mother's  arms  round 
her,  her  mother's  lips  upon  her  brow,  Jacqueline  told 
her  all.  Her  attraction  towards  Jerome  in  the  coun- 
try, her  promise  to  go  to  his  studio;  her  visit  there; 
its  result,  and  her  delivery  from  the  den  of  danger  by 
Oliver.  And  lastly,  her  blind  anger  at  his  interference. 

"  You  see,  mother,  I  was  wrong  all  round.  But 
although  I  have  behaved  like  a  fool  and  am  ashamed 
of  my  own  lack  of  sense  and  judgment,  yet  I  can't  for- 


2i6    THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

give — indeed  I  feel  that  I  shall  never  forgive — 
Oliver  for  his  impertinent  and  humiliating  rescue. 
.  .  .  I  am  a  worthless  creature,  maman  cherie! 
My  pride  is  broken!  My  cleverness?  Pshaw!  In 
what  has  it  helped  me?  I  have  behaved  like  the  stu- 
pidest lovesick  village  girl.  I  merit  no  one's  pity  or 
love." 

"Ah,  my  sweetest,"  replied  Franqoise,  "you  de- 
serve all  pity,  all  love.  And  you  have  them  here  in 
my  heart.  After  all,  nothing  really  matters  now,  so 
long  as  I  hold  you  here,  close  to  the  breast  that  bore 
you." 

Jacqueline  turned  to  her  mother  with  sudden  fierce 
tenderness,  and  muttered  half  to  herself: 

"  And  to  think,  darling  maman,  to  think,  for  sev- 
eral agonised  moments  I  believed  you  to  be  dying — 
far  away  from  me  at  that  hour!  Oh!"  and  Jacque- 
line's sobs  rose  almost  to  a  shriek  at  the  recollection 
of  her  past  agony,  "  that  was  the  worst  of  all  the  bit- 
terness of  this  most  distressful  day!  But  at  least  it 
has  had  one  happy  result.  For  I  discovered  then — 
my  heart's  beloved — what  you  were  to  me!  Nothing 
was  so  truly  tragic  as  my  anguish  on  your  account. 
Neither  Jerome's  base  love  nor  Oliver's  knowledge 
of  my  secret  seemed  to  count  at  all!  For  I  was 
frenzied  with  terror!  Nothing  in  the  world  could  be 
so  awful  as  to  lose  the  divine  comfort  of  you!  No," 
she  repeated,  as  Frangoise  kissed  away  her  tears  once 
more,  "no,  never,  never  shall  I  forgive  Oliver  the 
cruelty — the  wicked,  inhuman  cruelty  of  that  lie !  " 

"Poor  Oliver!     He  was  so  anxious  to  save  you. 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    217 

darling.  He  was  probably  beside  himself  with  terror 
at  the  thought  of  your  danger.  I  can  quite  under- 
stand that.  After  all,  he  was  bound  to  find  some 
reason  for  invading  Jerome's  studio  and  carrying  you 
off  at  once !  You  must  forgive  him,  dear,  because  of 
his  love  for  you." 

"  Oh  love !  "  said  Jacqueline  with  disdain.  "  Do 
not  speak  to  me  ever  again  of  love!  I've  finished  and 
done  with  it  for  ever.  Oh,  maman! "  she  cried  ag^in 
as  she  buried  her  scarlet  face  in  the  warm  safeness 
of  her  mother's  bosom  once  more.  "  If  you  only  knew 
how  horrible,  how  abominable  that  struggle  was!  It 
will  remain  as  a  hideous  nightmare  in  my  memory 
all  my  life.  How  odious,  how  repugnant  Jerome 
appeared  to  me  then!  If  that  is  love,  mother,  then 
never  speak  to  me  of  such  a  feeling  again! " 

Frangoise  soothed  and  kissed  her,  and  softly 
caressed  her  hair  with  her  hand.  But  she  said  noth- 
ing. She  knew  that  no  words  could  comfort  her 
darling;  only  patient  tenderness  and  love  could  bring 
solace.  Notwithstanding  her  distress  at  Jacqueline's 
story,  it  seemed  to  her  now  that  her  daughter  had  be- 
come her  baby  once  more — her  helpless,  petulant  baby. 
And  Frangoise's  quiet  restrained  comforting  soothed 
Jacqueline's  nerves  more  than  any  expressed  sympa- 
thy. For  a  long  space  of  time  and  in  silence  again, 
they  remained  locked  in  one  another's  arms.  Then 
gradually  Jacqueline's  sobs  subsided,  Frangoise  kissed 
her  upturned,  tear-stained  face  again  and  again,  and 
by  gentle  degrees  a  quiet  peace  was  restored  to  Jac- 
queline's heart. 


2i8    THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

She  sat  up  and  looked  at  her  mother,  her  arms  still 
around  her. 

"Tell  me,  maman  cherie,  tell  me.  How  is  it  that 
you  are  so  calm,  so  forbearing,  so  tranquil  ?  How  is 
it  that  this  terrible  experience  of  mine,  which  seems 
to  me  so  great,  appears  to  affect  you  as  a  compara- 
tively small  thing  ?  Why  have  you  no  revolt-  -no  hate 
— no  words  of  revilement?    Why?" 

"  Because,  dearest,  long  before  to-day,  I  myself 
went  through  my  own  trial  of  love  suddenly  trans- 
formed into  hate,  and,  in  one  single  moment  realized 
the  downfall  of  my  most  cherished  hopes  and  dreams. 
Those  who  have  passed  through  such  an  ordeal  have 
gained  a  knowledge,  that  gives  a  great  calmness  to 
the  soul,  after  its  purification  by  many  tears.  To  each 
one  of  us  our  own  experience  seems  the  most  dread- 
ful thing  of  all.  To  each  of  us,  the  remembrance 
of  it  remains  as  a  horrible  dream  that  makes  us  trem- 
ble with  fear  and  anguish.  .  .  .  But  once  hav- 
ing passed  through  that  process,  the  soul  is  purged 
forever     .     .     .  " 

"Mother!  You  never  told  me  this  before!  Never 
hinted  even  at  a  personal  experience  of  sorrow.  I 
thought  your  youth  had  been  guarded  most  care- 
fully by  your  parents,  who  had  defended  you  against 
all  possible  errors!  Your  conventional  education 
must  forcibly  have  prevented  such  experiences  as  this. 
If  you  had  no  freedom  allowed  you,  at  least  you  could 
put  it  to  no  wrong  use." 

"  My  dear,  my  experience  did  not  come  to  me  in 
my  maiden  days.     .     .     .    But  afterwards    .     .     ." 


THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE    219 

Then  fearing  to  have  said  too  much,  Fran^oise  stopped 
short. 

"  Tell  me,  mother  mine.  .  .  .  Tell  me."  Jac- 
queline leaned  forward  again  and  took  FrauQoise's 
hand  in  hers.  "Tell  me,  dearest.  I  want  to 
know.     .     .     .  " 

"  Jacqueline  .  .  .  I  once  swore  to  myself  that 
you  should  never  know.  If  I  tell  you  my  secret  I 
shall  destroy  still  further  faiths  in  you,  which  I  have 
no  right  to  destroy.  I  may  make  you  still  more  un- 
happy than  you  are  now." 

"Nothing  can  hurt  me  more  than  to  know  you 
have  a  sorrow  I  cannot  share,  maman  cherie.  It  will 
lessen  my  own  burden  if  I  may  be  allowed  to  bear 
yours." 

And  then  Frangoise,  anxious  to  wean  Jacqueline's 
thoughts  away  from  her  own  trouble,  told  her  for  the 
first  time  all  the  story  of  the  discovery  she  had  made 
after  her  husband's  death,  and  of  the  way  in  which 
she  had  been  defrauded  of  all  memories  of  love  and 
happiness. 

"  You  see,  my  sweet  one — ^almost  every  woman 
must  go  through  the  ordeal  of  sorrow,  at  some  time 
or  another.  But  the  baptism  of  tears  is  like  the  bap- 
tism of  fire;  it  purifies.  .  .  .  When  you  have 
recovered  from  this  shock,  when  you  have  realized 
the  forces  in  you  that  are  still  strongly  vital,  when 
you  have  opened  your  own  eyes  again  to  the  realities 
of  life — then  you  will  find  that  however  painful  this 
experience  may  have  been  to  you,  it  will  have  given 
you    knowledge.      And   knowledge    will    make   you 


220    THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

strong- — stronger  still  than  you  have  been.  My  own 
experience  was  useless  to  me,  because  when  it  came 
to  me,  my  soul  was  already  morally  fettered.  I  could 
do  nothing  more  with  my  life.  The  knowledge  I  had 
gained  frustrated  all  hope  in  my  heart.  I  could  not 
build  up  any  new  ideals." 

"But  why  not,  mother?  You  had  every  right  to 
do  so!" 

"Ah,  my  child!  I  could  not!  Because  I  had  been 
trained  to  3rield  to  circumstances,  just  as  you  were 
trained  to  dominate  them  .  .  .  !  After  the  dis- 
covery I  made,  I  found  that  my  soul  had  been  weak- 
ened by  long  repression  that  it  no  longer  possessed  in 
itself  the  vitality  of  reaction.  All  that  was  left  of 
strength  in  me  I  gave  to  you,  my  sweet.  And  your 
education  has  been  the  direct  result  of  mine.  It  was 
my  own  rebellion  against  the  false  ethics  which  had 
been  taught  me.  I  may  have  exaggerated  the  degree  of 
liberty  I  gave  you,  because  I  acted  in  such  fierce  revolt 
when  I  decided  what  your  training  should  be  .  .  . 
But  though  I  have  never  dared  to  hope  that  I  could 
keep  sorrow  from  you,  at  least  I  made  every  effort  to 
shield  you  from  the  humiliating  pain  that  I  had 
known.  I  determined  that  even  if  you  were  to  suffer 
at  least  it  should  be  actively,  not  passively — it  should 
be  through  your  own  fault,  not  through  that  of 
others.    Do  you  understand?" 

Jacqueline  stood  up  straight  and  kissed  her  mother 
again. 

"  Yes,  sweetest,  I  understand.  I  understand  every- 
thing.    And  it  makes  my  own  sorrow  seem  a  very 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    221 

small  thing  beside  yours.  Oh,  my  darling  mother,  if 
I  had  only  known !  If  I  had  only  realized  before  now 
what  your  martyrdom  has  been     .     .     .1" 

"  You  could  not  have  understood  before  to-day, 
Jacqueline.  If  I  had  told  you  of  my  story  before, 
it  would  only  have  wearied  you,  or  have  seemed  in- 
comprehensible to  your  young  mind." 

Jacqueline- silently  stroked  Frangoise's  cheek.  She 
looked  upon  her  for  the  first  time  in  her  life  with  new 
eyes.  The  whole  soul  of  the  mother  was  revealed  to 
the  daughter  in  a  new  light.  Jacqueline  now  knew 
that  with  the  thoughtlessness  of  the  young,  who  be- 
lieve themselves  to  be  so  wise,  she  had  misjudged 
her  mother  entirely,  and  she  was  confused  with  a 
sense  of  remorseful  shame  because  she  had  not  un- 
derstood her  better  and  loved  her  more.  For  the 
first  time  in  her  life,  she  saw  into  her  mother's  soul 
and  the  revelation  of  Frangoise's  moral  fortitude  not 
only  brought  comfort  to  her,  and  stood  as  a  noble 
example  to  her,  but  also  made  her  understand  all  that 
she  owed  to  her.  It  seemed  to  her  now  that  the  whole 
of  her  life  would  not  be  long  enough  to  atone  to  her 
mother  for  her  own  thoughtless  and  selfish  youth, 

"Dearest  maman!  How  you  have  comforted  me! 
How  small  and  unimportant  you  have  made  my  own 
disappointment  seem  in  comparison  with  yours!  Oh, 
darling,  how  happy  I  am  that  it  is  not  too  late  to 
prove  to  you  how  much  and  how  well  I  can  love  you ! 
My  sorrow  has  become  yours,  maman  cherie,  but 
your  sorrow  has  become  mine  too.  If  you  have 
lessened  my  burden,  I,  too,  can  lessen  yours." 


222    THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

"  Ah,  my  darling,  I  cannot  substitute  my  experience 
for  yours ;  but  at  least  if  mine  has  helped  you  to  bear 
with  your  own,  then  it  has  not  been  in  vain,  and  I 
shall  cherish  it  as  a  good  thing." 

"  But  oh !  most  mute  and  most  wonderful  of  mothers 
' — from  what  source  of  self-immolation,  from  what 
deep  renouncement  has  your  high  wisdom  been 
wrought?  From  what  tears  have  you  wrung  your 
patience,  your  serene  pity?  Never  have  you  let  me 
even  guess  the  store  there  was  of  unwearing  indulgence 
and  comprehension  in  your  gentle  heart." 

"  Only  to-day,  dearest,  was  it  necessary  for  you  to 
know.  Only  to-day  was  there  any  need  for  my  own 
grief  to  come  forth  from  its  hiding-place  in  my  heart 
to  assuage  and  to  comfort  yours." 

"  And  now  that  you  have  revealed  yourself  to  me, 
mother,  I  realize  my  own  blindness  and  ignorance!  I 
believed  myself  so  superior  because  I  had  learnt  life 
in  books!  While  you,  maman  cherie,  were  so  endur- 
ing and  so  wise  when  you  were  confronted  with  my 
childish  ignorance,  my  stupid  petulance,  my  absurd 
and  pretentious  vanity!  .  .  .  What  a  vainglori- 
ous child  I  must  have  seemed  to  you !  How  irrational, 
and  how  absurd ! " 

"Jacqueline,  you  are  my  child,  and  I  am  your 
mother — ^and  in  that  statement  lies  the  whole  explana- 
tion of  myself.  If  I  am  able  to  comfort  you  to-day, 
remember  you  have  brought  me  great  consolation  too, 
as  well  as  much  joy.  .  .  .  You  may  yet  bring  me 
deeper  grief,  for  in  your  hands  alone  lies  all  possi- 
bility of  happiness  or  of  despair  for  me;  but  what- 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    223 

ever  burden  you  give  me  to  bear,  I  shall  bear  will- 
ingly. I  can  never  judge  you  unkindly,  my  darling! 
You  do  not  yet  know  what  a  mother's  heart  is  if  you 
do  not  understand  that  mine  is  for  you,  absolute  and 
everlasting  understanding.'* 

Jacqueline  kissed  her  mother  tenderly,  reverently 
once  more.    And  then  she  added: 

"But  darling,  let  me  be  entirely  frank  with  you 
now.  Though  I  admire  you  more  than  I  can  say,  I 
cannot  imitate  your  noble  example.  I  do  not  possess 
either  your  resignation  or  your  patient  spirit  of  sacri- 
fice. I  shall  not  say  to  myself  that  my  whole  life  is 
lost  because  of  this  one  mistake.  I  shall  gather  my- 
self together — greatly  by  your  help,  my  dearest — and 
I  shall  go  forth  again  into  the  fray,  all  the  stronger 
because  of  my  deeper  knowledge.  It  will  have  taught 
me  much,  but  it  will  not  have  crushed  out  my  hope." 

"Ah  dearest!  How  glad  I  am  to  hear  you  speak 
so,"  burst  forth  Frangoise  impetuously.  "  This  is  my 
true  reward,  for  it  is  exactly  what  I  have  wished  for, 
my  dear  daughter.  I  want  your  hope  to  survive, 
whatever  your  momentary  despair  may  be.  If  I  have 
helped  you  to  accomplish  that,  then  I  have  been  able 
to  do  more  for  you  than  I  have  ever  been  able  to  do 
for  myself.    And  I  shall  not  have  lived  in  vain." 

As  Franqoise  spoke,  Jacqueline  looked  at  her  criti- 
cally, as  her  eyes  had  never  yet  dwelled  on  her.  She 
saw  her  mother  for  the  first  time  in  her  life  as  a 
woman — as  a  woman  who  could  please,  attract,  charm, 
and  be  beloved  of  men.  For  her  gentleness,  her  sweet- 
ness and  her  attractiveness  had  all  remained  youth- 


224    THE  EDUCATION  OE  JACQUELINE 

ful,  so  youthful  that  Jacqueline  saw  in  her  mother  to- 
day a  freshness  of  the  spirit  which  even  she  herself 
no  longer  possessed.  It  was  the  unrepressed  vitality  of 
a  woman  who  has  accepted  fate  resignedly,  that  burst 
forth  now  with  a  new  brilliance.  In  spite  of  her  usual 
serenity,  the  telling  of  her  own  story  to  her  daughter, 
the  remembrance  of  her  old,  yet  unforgotten  wrongs 
and  the  passion  which  their  memory  aroused  once 
more  in  her,  and  awakened  in  her  a  renewed  youth.  It 
was  evident  that  the  joy  of  feeling  herself  at  last  in 
perfect  harmony  of  understanding  with  her  adored 
child  had  given  her  a  new  spiritual  strength,  and  with 
it  a  fresher  charm  and  fervour.  Perhaps  also  the  emo- 
tions of  Jacqueline  had  stirred  her  own  femininity, 
for  momentarily  she  was  transfigured.  The  placid 
expression  of  her  beautiful  countenance  had  disap- 
peared, giving  place  to  an  elasticity  of  feature  and 
movement  that  denoted  the  resurrection  of  warmer 
feelings  within  her.  At  the  moment  she  appeared  to 
Jacqueline  not  only  as  a  mother,  but  as  a  woman. 

"Dearest  and  sweetest  one,"  said  Jacqueline. 
"How  beautiful  you  are!  How  bewitching!  Only 
now  do  I  realize  what  you  are!  Only  now  do  I  un- 
derstand the  adorable  woman-heart  you  have  sacri- 
ficed on  the  altar  of  maternity." 

And  Jacqueline  rose,  and  taking  her  mother  into 
her  arms,  pressed  her  to  her  breast,  at  last  understand- 
ing all  there  was  of  nobility  in  her  complete  k>ve  and 
devotion. 

"At  last,  dear  mother.  At  last,  now,  I  under- 
stand   .    .    ." 


THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE    225 

And  she  kissed  Frangoise  not  only  fervently  and 
reverently,  but  maternally  too.  For  in  this  strange 
conversation,  her  own  womanhood  had  been  revealed 
to  her.  It  had  suddenly  blossomed  and  put  forth  its 
fruit,  which  is  maternal  love — ^that  instinct  which  is 
almost  divine  in  the  heart  of  woman. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

The  day  following  this  enlightening  conversation 
between  mother  and  daughter,  Jacqueline  started  at 
the  usual  hour  for  the  Sorbonne,  leaving  Frangoise 
alone  again  in  the  salon  where  she  always  worked, 
spending  nearly  all  the  day  with  her  needle.  To-day, 
while  Gemence  was  out  marketing,  Frangoise  had 
drawn  Jacqueline's  torn  blouse  from  the  hiding-place 
into  which  she  had  thrust  it  out  of  the  reach  of  the 
servant's  keen  eyes-  the  evening  before,  and  quickly 
mended  it  before  Clemence  could  return.  Then  she 
carried  it  back  to  Jacqueline's  room  and  folding  it 
carefully,  laid  it  back  in  its  drawer,  feeling  as  she 
did  so  that  she  was  laying  to  rest  forever,  the  last 
token  of  Jacqueline's  terrible  experience. 

Jacqueline  felt  almost  as  another  being  after  the 
revelations  of  the  day  before.  But  it  wjas  not  the 
scene  in  the  studio  that  remained  fixed  indelibly  in 
her  memory;  it  was  the  story  of  her  mother's  life. 
This  had  shown  her  so  new  an  aspect  of  her  mother, 
that  for  the  moment  she  was  almost  bewildered.  It 
seemed  to  her  as  if  she  had  only  just  begun  to  know 
her.  Certainly  she  had  never  understood  her  before. 
The  rather  sweet  and  gentle  creature  who  hitherto 
had  been  entirely  wrapped  up  in  her  daughter's  ex- 
istence, who  seemed  to  have  no  life  apart  from  hers, 
now  appeared  to  her  in  quite  a  new  light.    Inclined 

2a6 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    227 

to  over-value  her  own  intellect  and  its  acquirements, 
Jacqueline  had  been  equally  disposed  to  underrate 
her  mother's  character.  She  knew  that  Frangoise  be- 
longed to  the  generation  of  women  whose  moral  train- 
ing had  been  more  stringent  than  that  of  their 
daughters',  but  whose  mental  education  had  been 
neither  as  complete  nor  as  solid.  Frangoise  had  but 
a  very  small  smattering  of  the  knowledge  that  is 
acquired  in  books,  and  which  was  in  truth  the  only 
knowledge  that  Jacqueline  possessed  at  all.  So  far, 
Jacqueline  had  been  inclined  to  think  somewhat  arro- 
gantly that  her  own  culture  was  all-sufficient  for  the 
battle  of  life.  Now  she  perceived  that  it  had  im- 
parted but  little  true  knowledge  of  life,  and  had  not 
even  taught  her  how  to  read  the  character — even 
superficially — of  the  one  human  being  who  was  so 
near  and  so  dear  to  her.  Indeed  now,  Frangoise  ap- 
peared to  her  daughter  almost  in  the  light  of  a  heroine 
of  romance.  The  personal  decision,  the  wide  and  un- 
derstanding sympathy,  the  grand  generosity  she  had 
shown  in  her  relations  with  the  woman  whom  a  less 
noble  creature  would  have  treated  with  contumely — 
appealed  greatly  to  Jacqueline's  admiration,  indicat- 
ing, as  it  did,  a  spiritual  strength  of  personality  which 
commanded  the  daughter's  complete  respect.  And 
what  claimed  this  modem  girl's  approval  so  strongly 
was  not  only  the  power  of  renunciation  that  Fran- 
goise had  shown  in  putting  aside  all  thoughts  of  per- 
sonal happiness  after  her  spiritual  awakening,  but  the 
tenacity  and  endurance  of  that  resolution  through- 
out the  long  years  which  had  elapsed  since.     What 


228    THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE 

mental  fortitude,  what  self-restraint  she  had  proved 
that  she  possessed!  The  daughter  paid  high  tribute 
to  these  superior  moral  qualities  that  forced  her  to 
acknowledge  her  mother's  greater  and  nobler  char- 
acter notwithstanding  her  imperfect  culture. 

Jacqueline  admitted  to  herself  as  she  walked  along 
down  the  Boulevard  St.  Germain  towards  the  Rue 
des  Ecoles,  that  among  the  numerous  friends  that 
had  made  up  their  intimate  circle,  during  the  years 
of  their  residence  In  Paris,  Frangoise  Revllle  might 
surely  have  met — and  probably  more  than  once — some 
man  who  might  have  attracted  her  and  tempted  her 
to  break  her  vow  to  herself.  The  forces  in  her  nature 
were  capable  of  renewal  like  those  of  all  human 
beings,  and  there  was  no  reason  because  she  had  vol- 
untarily killed  her  love  for  Adrien  and  even  all  mem- 
ory of  it,  that  subsequently  she  should  not  have  built 
up  in  her  heart  a  new  temple  of  belief.  For 
Jacqueline,  with  her  more  modern  conception  of 
femininity  and  its  claims,  would  not  admit  that  be- 
cause a  woman  had  been  mistaken  or  befooled  once, 
she  should  not  wipe  out  all  unpleasant  memories  from 
her  mind,  and  wander  forth  once  more  into  the 
regions  of  passion,  in  search  of  that  personal  happiness 
to  which  every  human  individual  had  a  right.  It 
seemed  astonishing  to  her  that  her  mother  should 
have  so  definitely  renounced  the  natural  and  legiti- 
mate joys  of  the  wife  and  of  the  amour euse. 

Meanwhile,  during  these  reflections  of  Jacqueline 
on  her  way  to  the  cours  de  litterature,  Frangolse  her- 
self still  ensconced  in  her  favourite  chair,  was  talk- 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    229 

ing  to  Pomm,  who  had  just  called  to  see  her.  He 
knew  that  he  was  always  sure  of  finding  her  at  home 
at  this  hour,  and  had  come  straight  on — after  his 
lunch  at  a  restaurant  on  the  Boulevard  Montparnesse 
■ — to  pay  her  one  of  his  conventional  visits.  For 
Pomm,  who  had  never  known  the  relaxing  atmos- 
phere of  a  home,  who  had  always  lived  among 
strangers,  and  whose  social  soul  had  been  fashioned 
only  by  the  etiquette  of  naval  officers — though  he 
knew  Frangoise  Reville  so  well,  was  always  most 
ceremonious  in  his  relations  with  her.  At  the  in- 
stigation of  Frangoise,  he  had  now  acquired 
the  habit  of  leaving  his  hat,  coat,  and  stick  in  the 
hall,  though  had  he  followed  his  own  impulsion  he 
would  have  come  into  the  salon  with  his  hat  and 
stick  in  one  hand,  and  with  his  other  hand  falling 
straight  at  his  side  while  he  made  the  conventional 
bow  which  it  is  correct  for  all  Frenchmen  to  make 
to  ladies.  But  long  ago  Frangoise  had  smilingly  asked 
Pomm  to  leave  his  company  manners  with  his  hat  in 
the  anti-chamber — so  that  now  he  came  forward  into 
the  room  divested  not  only  of  his  coat,  hat  and  stick, 
but  also  of  his  stiff,  conventional  attitude.  But  he 
was  not  empty-handed.  For  having  successfully 
filled  to  overflowing  most  of  the  living  space  of  his 
own  abode  with  useless  books,  he  was  now  endeavour- 
ing to  accomplish  the  same  task  in  the  home  of  his 
two  only  friends.  He  had  many  excuses  for  bring- 
ing literature  to  Jacqueline,  for  in  the  preparation  of 
her  Licence,  there  were  numerous  volumes,  besides 
those  designated  in  the  programme  of  special  studies, 


230    THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

whicH  might  be  helpful  to  her.  Since  he  Had  been 
informed  of  her  intention  of  competing  for  her 
degree,  he  had  made  a  point  of  hunting  up  for  her 
all  the  mustiest  works  he  could  discover  within  the 
boxes  of  the  quay  book-sellers.  He  never  arrived 
at  Frangoise's  flat  without  several  new  volumes  to 
distribute.  There  were  half  a  dozen  books  at  least 
always  concealed  about  his  person  destined  for  pre- 
sentation either  to  mother  or  daughter — or  to  both. 
He  not  only  carried  parcels  of  these  in  his  arms,  but 
also  in  all  his  pockets.  His  overcoat  was  entirely 
shapeless  owing  to  the  weights  he  inserted  into  them; 
even  the  side  pockets  of  his  jacket  sagged  most  pain- 
fully. 

To-day,  as  he  entered.  He  carried  three  old  volumes, 
the  works  of  Joachim  du  Bellay  for  Jacqueline,  and 
two  volumes  of  a  novel  by  Madame  de  Lafayette  for 
Frangoise.  In  the  pockets,  of  course,  there  were 
various  phamphlets,  and  among  these  the  printed 
speech  of  an  early  Republican  Minister  of  Public 
Education  of  1848,  which  touched  upon  the  question 
of  woman's  education  which  he  always  considered 
to  be  the  special  hobby  of  Madame  Reville.  He  de- 
posited the  books  carefully  on  the  table  before  he 
greeted  his  friend.  Then  without  accepting,  or  even 
heeding  the  chair  which  Frangoise  offered  him,  he 
stood  before  her  on  the  hearthrug  and  burst  forth 
into  explanations  concerning  these  excellent  volumes, 
which  he  was  delighted  to  have  discovered  on  the 
quays  for  a  few  sous,  pointing  out  to  Frangoise  the 
immense  interest  which  the  works  of  du  Bellay  could 


THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE    231 

offer  to  Jacqueline,  and  extolling  the  charm  of  Ma- 
dame de  Lafayette's  prose,  which  he  deemed  above 
all  praise.  Frangoise  listened  patiently  with  her  quiet 
resigned  smile.  She  knew  Pomm's  idiosyncrasies  and 
always  humoured  them.  She  knew  that  for  him,  life 
had  no  personal  attractions,  and  that  he  was  really 
only  vividly  interested  in  the  life  to  be  found 
in  printed  matter.  This  alone  was  real  to  him. 
Life  itself  was  not.  And  the  only  two  human 
beings  whom  Pomm  could  possibly  allow  to  claim  his 
attention,  were  Frangoise  and  her  daughter.  Each 
time  he  arrived  at  Frangoise's  flat,  he  invariably 
plunged  immediately  into  the  particular  subject  which 
interested  him  the  most  at  the  moment,  keen  to  ex- 
plain all  he  had  read  since  his  last  visit  and  regard- 
less— at  least  for  the  moment — of  the  personal  inter- 
ests of  his  two  friends.  To-day  he  expatiated  even 
more  lengthily  than  usual  upon  the  great  merits  of 
the  volumes  he  had  brought  with  him,  so  that  even 
the  patient  Frangoise  felt  as  if  she  must  soon  lose 
her  temper. 

But  when  at  last  forced  to  pause  for  want  of  breath' 
— ^he  sat  down  opposite  to  her,  then  it  was  that  she 
began  to  talk.  Halting  at  times  with  strong  emotion, 
she  told  him  the  whole  story  of  the  incident  at 
the  studio  the  previous  day,  though  she  made  no 
allusion  to  the  conversation  she  had  had  with  Jac- 
queline subsequently,  deeming  it  too  private  and  too 
sacred  even  for  Pomm's  ears.  When  the  meaning 
of  Jerome's  infamy  was  clear  to  him,  Pomm  was 
not  only  astonished,  but  deeply  indignant    He  rarely 


232    THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

lost  his  temper,  but  when  he  did  so,  it  was  a  serious 
business.  As  Frangoise's  story  progressed,  his  anger 
against  Jerome  d'Ablis  increased  to  furious  rage. 
But  though  he  was  incapable  of  expressing  what  he 
felt,  by  the  time  Frangoise  had  finished,  he  was  deeply 
affected,  not  only  by  his  sympathy  for  Jacqueline  and 
Frangoise,  but  with  a  personal  feeling  of  violent  re- 
sentment against  Jerome.  His  profoundest  feelings 
were  hidden  in  his  heart,  but  all  his  warm  paternal 
love  for  Adrien's  child  awoke  in  him  and  clamoured 
for  vengeance.  However  he  said  nothing  to  Frangoise 
because  he  could  not  explain  what  emotions  he  felt. 
He  was  the  more  silent,  being  the  more  touched.  In- 
deed to  FranQoise  he  seemed  almost  indifferent.  After 
a  few  moments,  as  he  made  no  remark,  Frangoise 
asked  him: 

"Well,  what  do  you  think  of  Monsieur  Jerome 
d'Ablis?" 

"  I  don't  know,  I'm  sure,"  replied  Pomm. 

"  Don't  you  think  that  he  deserves  a  severe  punish- 
ment, to  have  so  betrayed  our  hospitality  at  Les  Peu- 
pliers?" 

"Yes  .  ;:  .*'  reluctantly,  ".  .  .  I  suppose 
so.    But  young  men  will  be  young  men ! " 

Frangoise  shrugged  her  shoulders.  She  was  in- 
censed at  Pomm's  apparent  lack  of  sympathy. 

"  What  a  stupid  remark  to  make ! "  she  exclaimed. 

"If  you  will  insist  upon  giving  free  education  to 
a  French  girl  you  must  not  be  astonished  when  these 
things  happen,"  he  pursued,  not  heeding  her  inter- 
ruption.    "Young  men  in  France  are  not  prepared 


THE    EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    233 

for  young  girls  to  have  such  liberty  as  Jacqueline  is 
accustomed  to  enjoy." 

It  was  Pomm's  habit,  in  viewing  a  situation,  never 
to  give  his  own  opinion,  but  to  use  the  very  argu- 
ments of  depreciation  which  would  infallibly  be  ad- 
vanced by  the  severest  and  most  unsympathetic  judges. 

But  to-day,  the  gentle  Frangoise  was  truly  hurt, 
by  his  apparently  apathetic  tone.  To  her  mind  it 
indicated  a  culpable  lack  of  interest. 

"  How  odious  you  are,  Pomm !  Why,  you  almost 
seem  to  suggest  "that  Jerome's  conduct  is  entirely 
justified!  In  my  opinion  he  ought  to  have  the 
soundest  thrashing  that  can  be  given  him!  If  I 
were  Jacqueline's  father  or  brother,  instead  of  her 
mother,  I'd  go  and  give  it  to  him  myself!     .     .     /* 

Pomm  made  no  answer.  He  was  reflecting  deeply 
upon  a  sudden  thought  that  had  taken  root  in  his 
mind.  But  his  features  remained  in  complete  repose 
and  no  one  could  have  guessed  what  he  pondered. 

After  a  few  moments'  total  silence,  he  consulted 
his  watch.  Then  he  rose  suddenly  with  a  jerk  as 
if  a  spring  had  opened  inside  him.  He  had  taken 
an  abrupt  resolution,  though  nothing  in  the  expres- 
sion of  his  face  revealed  the  fact.  Frangoise,  whose 
own  feelings  had  been  somewhat  soothed  by  her  out- 
burst, being  used  to  Pomm's  peculiar  ways,  went  on 
with  her  stitching  unconcernedly. 

"Good-bye,  madame,"  said  Pomm,  suddenly  stand- 
ing up  before  her  once  more  and  holding  out  his  hand 
awkwardly. 

"What,  are  you  going  already?"  asked  Frangoise. 


234    THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

"  I  expect  Jacqueline  home  in  a  few  minutes.  Won't 
you  wait  to  see  her?" 

"  No,  I  can't  wait  to-day,"  he  murmured  indis- 
tinctly. "I  have  something  to  do  that  is  most  im- 
portant, and  I  have  an  appointment  on  the  quay  at 
four  o'clock.  ...  So  kindly  beg  her  to  excuse 
me.  .  .  .  Don't  trouble  to  move,"  he  added  as 
Frangoise  was  rising  to  go  to  the  door  with  him.  "  I 
know  my  way.    Good-bye." 

And  Frangoise,  smiling  at  the  old  man's  eccentric 
manner,  to  which  she  had  never  become  entirely  ac- 
customed, let  him  go. 

"A  hientot!"  cried  Pomm. 

In  the  anti-chamber,  Pomm  took  up  his  hat,  looked 
at  it  to  be  sure  he  was  putting  it  on  front  side  fore- 
most, then  put  it  on  and  taking  down  his  coat  with 
much  awkwardness  scrambled  into  it.  Then  he  took 
his  folded  muffler  from  a  peg,  and  deliberately  wound 
it  three  times  round  his  neck.  Lastly  he  picked  up  his 
walking  stick  of  thick,  sound,  solid  wood  and  provided 
with  a  crook  handle.  He  contemplated  this  imple- 
ment, inspecting  it  critically  for  a  few  moments,  turn- 
ing it  round  and  round  in  his  hand  and  weighing  it 
carefully.  Ultimately  it  seemed  to  commend  itself 
to  him  and  to  meet  with  his  entire  approval.  Then 
he  consulted  his  watch  once  more. 

"I  shall  just  have  time,"  he  murmured  to  himself 
as  he  opened  the  hall-door  and  let  himself  out  gently. 
.  .  .  "  Yes,  I  shall  just  have  time.  But  dear 
me!  I  must  take  a  cab,  for  the  man  said  that  he 
would  have  that  third  volume  at  four  o'clock  sharp 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    235 

and  there's  always  such  a  rush  for  those  books.  .  .  . 
De^r  me !  dear  me !  I  do  hope  I  shall  not  miss  that 
appointment ! " 

He  hailed  a  passing  cab  and  with  clear  precision 
gave  an  address  to  the  driver.  It  was  the  address 
of  the  buildings  where  Oliver  Brent  and  Jerome 
d'Ablis  had  their  studios. 

Jerome  d'Ablis  was  in  his  studio.  He  was  feeling 
rather  abject.  Not  that  he  felt  remorse  for  his  be- 
haviour of  the  day  before — but  as  he  had  entered  the 
house  a  few  moments  before  he  had  come  face  to 
face  with  Oliver  Brent  in  the  corridor.  When  Jerome 
saw  Oliver  he  put  out  his  hand  to  greet  him  as  usual, 
believing  it  to  be  more  tactful  to  ignore  their  last 
meeting  altogether.  But  Oliver  looked  him  straight 
in  the  face,  and  putting  his  two  hands  deliberately 
behind  his  back,  refused  Jerome's  proffered  hand- 
shake. 

"Henceforth,  we  are  no  longer  friends,"  said 
Oliver,  opening  the  door  of  his  own  apartment.  "  I 
have  no  further  explanation  to  give  you.  You  will 
understand,  I  forbid  you  to  speak  to  me  or  to  recog- 
nize me  in  any  way,  wherever,  and  whenever  we  may 
meet.    You  understand?" 

"But     .      .      ."  began  Jerome  in  explanation. 

Oliver  interrupted  him.  "  Nothing  more  need  be 
said.  I  regret  that  I  have  not  the  right  to  call  you 
out  on  le  terrain  and  put  a  bullet  through  that  rotten 
skull  of  yours,  though  a  sound  hiding  would  be  more 
what  you  deserve — a  clean  bullet  would  be  contam- 
inated by  your  contact.     Unfortunately  for  me,  and 


236    THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

luckily  for  you,  I  might  do  more  harm  than  good  if 
I  interfered.      You  understand?" 

Jerome  made  no  answer.  He  flushed  crimson  and, 
unlocking  his  own  door,  passed  out  of  Oliver's  sight. 
Jerome  had  ever  been  somewhat  afraid  of  Oliver 
Brent  and,  besides,  he  was  not  prepared  to  take  even 
a  salutary  chastisement  for  les  beaux  yeux  of  Made- 
moiselle Reville.  Oliver  on  the  other  hand,  knew 
enough  of  French  customs  to  realize  that  he  could  not 
punish  Jerome  without  compromising  Jacqueline  irre- 
vocably. So  for  her  sake  he  swallowed  his  unmiti- 
gated disgust. 

As<  he  entered,  Jerome  looked  around  his  studio. 
The  genius  that  presided  at  the  concierge's  lodge  had 
tidied  it  up  and  swept  it  out  that  very  morning.  There 
was  no  trace  of  Jacqueline's  presence  there  on  the 
previous  day.  The  divan,  which  contained  the  always 
ready-made  bed  beneath  its  covering  of  Algerian  em- 
broidery, looked  neat  and  inviting.  Jerome  threw 
himself  upon  it  nonchalantly  in  a  sudden  fit  of  ill- 
temper  against  everybody  and  everything,  but  against 
Oliver  and  Jacqueline  in  particular,  and  began  to 
think  over  the  situation.  Yes,  it  would  be  most  in- 
convenient to  be  in  such  proximity  to  Brent  now. 
He  must  give  up  his  studio  and  seek  another  in  the 
'Quartier,  if  they  still  tarried  about  his  appointment  at 
the  Foreign  Office.  What  a  nuisance  it  was!  And 
what  a  nuisance  women  were  too!  It  was  always 
through  them  that  a  man  met  with  all  his  worries !  For 
Jerome's  resentment  against  Jacqueline  was  so  great 
now,  that  he  found  some  comfort  again  in  the  con- 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    237 

victlon  that  she  was  a  mere  vulgar  flirt,  playing  one 
man  against  another.  It  was  very  evident  to  him  now 
that  she  had  told  Oliver  of  her  intended  visit  yester- 
day !  Perhaps  even,  she  had  begged  him  to  interfere. 
Yes,  of  course,  his  intervention  had  been  concerted  be- 
tween them !  Pshaw !  Well,  this  was  the  last  time  he 
would  be  caught  flirting  with  an  up-to-date  modern 
girl,  who  had  been  educated  at  a  Lycee  and  attended 
the  Sorbonne  lectures.  No  more  of  these  for  him, 
thank  you!  after  yesterday's  experience.  He  would 
confine  his  interests  to  the  ladies  of  the  demi-monde 
or  the  unfaithful  wives  of  his  friends,  after  this.  It 
would  be  a  lesson  to  him!  With  them  at  least  you 
always  knew  where  you  were.  They  were  bound  not 
to  kick  up  a  row  because  they  had  their  own  husbands 
to  reckon  with.  ...  It  was  so  difficult  to  know 
how  to  deal  with  this  new  generation  of  so-called 
jeunes  iilles.  .  .  .  Impertinent,  vain  creatures 
who  knew  as  much  Latin  and  mathematics  as  any  man 
of  their  own  age,  who  competed  with  men  at  the 
University  and  elsewhere  and  yet  who  provoked 
men's  attentions  to  the  top  of  their  bent,  with  their 
feminine  wiles  and  coquetries!  Cette  petite  Jacque- 
line Reville !  Who  would  have  thought  that  she  could 
have  been  such  a  prude!  After  the  way  she  had  be- 
haved in  the  country  ?  She  had  never  even  pretended 
to  be  innocent,  like  the  jeune  fille  bien  elevee  of  a 
former  generation  who  could  never  leave  her 
mother's  wing.  She  went  out  alone.  She  must 
know  life.  She  must  know  how  men  behave  with 
attractive  women  when  they  are  alone  with  them! 


2'38    THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE 

She  had  evidently  fooled  others  before  just  as  she 
had  fooled  him!  How  she  and  Oliver  must  be 
laughing  in  their  sleeves  at  him  now!  How  com- 
pletely he  had  been  tricked  by  them  both !  Pah !  He 
was  sick  with  disgust  and  horror  of  the  whole  thing. 
Yes,  he  would  get  another  studio  as  soon  as  possible 
and  move  in  his  things  at  once,  even  if  he  had  to 
sacrifice  a  quarter's  rent.  It  was  worth  it,  not  to  be 
meeting  that  sanctimonious,  hypocritical  Angliche 
next  door  at  every  turn !     .     .     . 

And  Jerome,  thoroughly  dissatisfied  with  himself 
and  with  things  in  general,  gave  a  vigorous  kick  or 
two  at  the  numerous  soft  cushions  of  his  divan 
and  sent  them  flying  half-way  across  the  room. 

In  the  midst  of  these  reflections  he  heard  a  knock' 
at  the  door.      He  got  up  and  went  to  open. 

On  the  threshold  stood  an  old  gentleman  with  a 
closely  cropped,  pointed  silver  beard,  and  a  very 
long  nose.  He  wore  a  soft  crushed  felt  hat  and  an 
overcoat  that  sagged  very  much  at  the  pockets.  In 
the  buttonhole  of  his  coat  was  the  rosette  of  the 
Legion  of  Honour. 

"  Monsieur  Jerome  d'Ablis  ? "  he  inquired  politely. 

"Yes,  monsieur,  I  am  Jerome  d'Ablis.  At  your 
service." 

"  I  have  something  to  say  to  you,  monsieur." 

"  Certainly,  monsieur.  But,"  and  he  looked  at  the 
old  gentleman's  face,  "I  do  not  remember  whether 
I  have  the  honour  of  your  acquaintance.  ..;  i..  .  ?  " 
He  hesitated  courteously. 

"Excuse  me,  if  you  please;  let  me  give  you  my 
card."    And  Pomm,  for  Pomm  it  was  who  thus  called 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    239 

upon  Jerome  d'Ablis,  began  in  his  awkward  fashion 
to  fumble  in  all  his  inner  pockets  for  his  card-case. 

The  open  window  of  Jerome's  studio  was  just 
opposite  to  the  door.  A  sudden  sharp  current  of  air 
blew  across  the  two  men's  shoulders. 

"  Please  come  in,  monsieur.  We  are  standing  in 
a  draught."  Jerome  was  always  terribly  afraid  of 
catching  a  cold.  He  closed  the  door  behind  the  old 
sailor  quickly. 

"That's  exactly  what  I  wanted,  young  man,  if  you 
only  knew  it,"  chuckled  Pomm  to  himself  as  he  still 
sought  the  depths  of  his  multitudinous  pockets  for 
his  card-case.  At  last  he  drew  out  a  pasteboard  and 
offered  it  to  Jerome. 

"  Voici,  monsieur." 

And  Jerome  read: 

"Monsieur  Jean  Pommeret, 
"Capitaine  de  Fregate  en  Retraite." 

Jerome  raised  his  eyes  inquiringly  to  Pomm's  im- 
passive face. 

"  But,  are  you  not  mistaken,  monsieur?  I  am 
afraid  that  I  have  not  the  honour  of  knowing  your 
name.    .     .     ." 

"  Then  I  must  introduce  myself,"  said  Pomm  in 
a  more  resolute  tone  than  he  had  used  till  now,  and 
assuming  a  firm  look.  "I  was  the  most  intimate 
friend  of  the  late  Monsieur  Adrien  Reville.  I  am  the 
oldest  friend  of  Madame  Adrien  Reville  and  her 
daughter.  Perhaps  you  now  understand,  what  brings 
me  here  to-day,  monsieur f" 


240    THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

And  so  saying,  while  Jerome  still  stood  before  him 
in  surprise,  he  suddenly  shuffled  out  of  his  old  coat, 
his  black  muffler  and  felt  hat.  Advancing  towards 
Jerome,  before  even  that  astute  young  man  was  aware 
of  his  intention,  he  had  thrust  three  nervous  fingers  of 
his  left  hand  between  the  back  of  Jerome's  collar  and 
the  nape  of  his  soft  white  neck.  And  before  Jerome 
could  remonstrate  and  still  less  expostulate,  he  had 
twisted  him  deftly  round  and  with  his  knotted  stick 
was  belabouring  his  supple  back  and  thighs  with  re- 
peatedly well-aimed  and  particularly  cruel  blows.  The 
strokes  fell  with  precision  and  regularity,  and  Jerome 
was  so  surprised  by  the  sudden  attack  that  for  the 
first  two  minutes  he  did  not  utter  a  sound.  Then  sud- 
denly his  cries  rang  out — ^his  cries  for  mercy.  Ludi- 
crously childish  they  were,  at  first;  pitiful  and  im- 
ploring they  grew  at  last.  But  Pomm  was  inexorable. 
He  intended  to  administer  a  thorough  punishment, 
and  that  thorough  punishment  Jerome  d'Ablis  should 
receive.  Not  one  stroke  should  be  spared  the  young 
man,  and  no  flinching  or  relaxing  of  his  firm  grasp 
upon  Jerome's  collar  would  Pomm  allow  himself. 
The  old  sailor  had  come  here  to  perform  a  necessary 
though  unpleasant  duty,  and  he  would  perform  it  to 
the  utmost. 

The  thick  knotted  stick  whirred  through  the  air  as 
it  rose  and  fell  with  unerring,  well-timed  precision. 

"Pardon  .  .  .  pardon  .  .  .  monsieur!'* 
cried  Jerome,  who  was  literally  weeping  with  pain 
of  the  stinging  blows. 

"Attendes,     ,      ,     ,      cher  monsieur 


THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE    241 

wait!  I  have  not  finished  yet,"  answered  Pomm,  in 
almost  a  genial  tone.  For  though  he  was  breathless 
with  the  strong  exercise  of  chatisement,  he  was  deter- 
mined to  be  polite  and  moderate  in  his  language.  "  A 
few  more  strokes  and  I  shall  have  done  with  you," 
he  added  reassuringly,  and  indeed  the  final  blows  were 
administered  with  redoubled  energy  and  accuracy. 

At  last  Pomm's  vengeance  was  satisfied.  He  lifted 
up  Jerome,  now  supine  as  a  dead  rabbit,  off  his  feet 
entirely  and  ceasing  the  execution  of  the  punishment, 
threw  his  victim  in  a  listless  heap  on  to  the  soft 
cushions  of  the  divan.  So  bewildered  with  physical 
pain  was  Jerome  that  he  lay  there  prone,  his  face 
buried  in  the  soft  pillows,  weeping  and  crying  out 
in  the  intolerable  smart  of  the  weals  upon  his  body. 

"  Vous  m'aves  tue!  You've  killed  me ! "  he  cried 
out  in  sobbing  remonstrance,  his  words  alternating 
with  painful  moans. 

But  Pomm  paid  no  more  attention  to  the  sufferer 
than  if  he  had  been  an  extra  cushion  on  the  divan.  He 
quietly  and  peacefully  proceeded  with  all  his  dressing 
arrangements  once  more,  and  with  his  rather  awkward 
though  composed  movements,  picked  up  his  hat,  look- 
ing at  it  again  to  see  if  he  were  putting  it  on  straight 
— folded  his  muffler  round  his  throat,  got  clumsily 
into  his  coat,  and  picking  up  the  useful  knotted  stick, 
opened  the  studio  door,  and  then  closing  it  again  care- 
fully after  him,  stepped  lightly  down  the  corridor 
with  a  satisfied  feeling  of  having  performed  an  impor- 
tant though  distasteful  duty.  Meanwhile  Jerome  re- 
mained sobbing — his  face  still  buried  in  the  cushions. 


242    THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

Next  <ioor  Oliver  Brent,  who  had  seen  Pomm  go 
into  the  studio  and  had  heard  the  well-administered 
chatisement  in  progress,  smiled  grimly  to  himself  a 
smile  of  deep  satisfaction. 

"  He  has  killed  me !  He  has  killed  me !  "  moaned 
Jerome  distressfully,  as  he  rubbed  his  smarting 
shapely  legs. 

"  You  won't  be  much  loss  to  society,  if  he  has — you 
abominable  cad,"  muttered  Oliver  to  himself  as  he  lis- 
tened to  his  neighbour's  wail  of  agony. 

And  he  went  on  imperturbably  with  his  work, 
softly  whistling  the  "  Marseillaise "... 

Pomm  hurried  onwards  in  the  direction  of  the 
Quai  Voltaire  and  arrived  there  puffing  and  much  out 
of  breath.  He  was  only  just  in  the  nick  of  time  to 
secure  the  precious  treasure  upon  which  his  heart 
was  set,  for  almost  before  he  held  the  coveted  book 
in  his  hand,  he  perceived  a  much  hated  rival  collector 
appearing  upon  the  scene.  But  with  an  elated  sense 
of  victory,  Pomm  trotted  off  home  with  his  new  ac- 
quisition tucked  safely  into  his  left-hand  pocket,  just 
beneath  his  heart,  rejoicing  in  the  gratifying  convic- 
tion that  this  afternoon  he  had  accomplished  both 
a  difficult  and  unpleasant  duty,  but,  conscious  that  at 
least  his  virtue  had  met  with  a  fitting  and  consoling 
reward. 


CHAPTER   XIV 

Jacqueline  now  devoted  far  more  hours  of  the  day 
to  her  mother  and  to  her  home.  The  whole  tone  of 
the  conversation  between  mother  and  daughter  since 
the  day  of  their  understanding  was  entirely  altered. 
FranQoise  treated  Jacqueline  now  not  as  a  child,  but 
as  a  full-grown  woman — not  as  a  daughter,  but  as  a 
friend.  And  Jacqueline  herself  began  to  understand 
that  there  were  many  things  in  life  for  her  yet  to 
learn.  She  knew  that  hitherto  she  had  lived  and  acted 
but  as  a  child,  and  in  a  chastened  and  more  humble 
spirit  she  set  herself  to  acquire  a  new  attitude  towards 
life. 

When,  some  months  before  at  her  coming  of  age, 
she  had  been  informed  by  her  mother  that  she  had 
an  independent  fortune  of  her  own,  Jacqueline  had 
not  much  questioned  its  source.  Frangoise  had  told 
her  that  it  had  been  left  to  her  by  an  old  school- fellow 
of  her  own,  who  had  been  charmed  with  Jacqueline 
when  a  baby,  and  Jacqueline  herself  had  accepted  this 
explanation  quite  simply.  Now  that  Jacqueline  had  be- 
gun to  approach  all  things  and  event*  in  a  new  spirit 
of  investigation,  she  manifested  her  surprise  at  this  in- 
heritance, and  wished  to  understand  the  better  how 
it  was  that  this  money  had  been  left  to  her  independ- 
ently of  her  mother. 

"  Tell  me,  maman  cherie,"  she  said  one  day  a  few 
243 


244    THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

weeks  after  their  friendship  had  become  to  both  of 
them  so  real  a  thing — she  was  sitting  at  her  mother's 
feet,  while  Frangoise  pursued  her  everlasting  em-t 
broidery  by  the  fireside — "  how  is  it  that  I  am  the 
possessor  of  two  hundred  thousand  francs  which  have 
nothing  to  do  with  your  own  fortune?  And  even  if 
the  money  is  mine,  why  have  you  not  had  the  use  of 
it  first,  since  the  Madame  Ducastel  who  left  it  to  me 
was  your  old  friend?" 

FranQoise  looked  at  her  daughter  for  an  instant. 
She  had  always  resolved  to  tell  Jacqueline  of  the 
origin  of  this  money  when  it  seemed  necessary  to  do 
so.  She  perceived  that  the  moment  for  a  full  explan- 
ation to  Jacqueline  had  now  come. 

"  That  money  was  left  to  you  by  Madame  Ducastel, 
the  widow  of  the  once  famous  Sebastien  Ducastel,  the 
Deputy.  She  was  not  on  old  friend  of  mine,  my 
dearest.  She  was  a  widow  with  no  children.  She 
left  you  all  she  possessed."  Frangoise  suddenly 
halted  in  her  explanations.  She  found  it  more  diffi- 
cult to  speak  of  Cecile  to  her  daughter  than  she  had 
anticipated. 

"  That  I  have  already  gathered,  maman.  But  who 
was  Madame  Ducastel?  I  have  never  heard  you 
speak  of  her  except  in  connection  with  my  money, 
and  only  then  once.  Tell  me  who  she  was,"  Jacque- 
line persisted. 

"  Dearest,"  Frangoise  began  again,  and  then  leaned 
over  towards  her  daughter  to  take  her  hand.  "  Dear- 
est, I  want  you  to  try  and  understand  my  motives 
with  all  that  is  best  and  most  generous  in  your  heart." 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    245 

FrariQoise  realized  that  though  Jacqueline  was  acquir- 
ing a  wider  knowledge  of  life  by  leaps  and  bounds, 
that  nevertheless  it  would  require  a  very  broad  com- 
prehension for  her  to  understand  why  her  own  mother 
had  accepted  Cecile  Ducastel's  gift  to  her  child. 

"Dearest,  listen  and  try  to  be  quite  unprejudiced. 
The  other  day,  when  I  told  you  about  your  father  and 
the  woman  who  had  loved  him  before  I  had  ever  met 
him,  I  did  not  tell  you  her  name.  It  was  Cecile 
Ducastel.     ..." 

For  a  few  moments  Jacqueline  was  silent.  Her 
face  was  very  pale.  She  was  too  dumfounded  to 
speak 

"  .  .:  .  Mother!"  there  was  a  world  of  as- 
tonishment in  her  voice,  "  Mother,  I  understand  still 
less  now ! "  she  exclaimed,  flushing  now  to  the  roots  of 
her  hair.  "  I  should  never  presume,  knowing  what 
I  do  now  of  your  character,  to  question  your  wisdom 
or  your  judgment.  But  how  is  it  that  you  allowed 
my  father's  .  .  .  friend  .  .  ."  she  said 
the  word  with  a  choking  voice ;  "  how  is  it  that  you 
allowed  that  .  .  .  lady  to  dower  me — ^your 
child  ?    I  cannot  understand,  try  as  I  may !  " 

"  My  dearest,  she  was  dying  and  she  implored  my 
consent  .  .  .  she  even  begged  my  forgiveness. 
.  But  there  could  be  no  question  of  that  be- 
tween us.  .  .  .  Forgiveness  implies  judgment, 
and  I  had  not  the  right  to  judge  Cecile.  .  .  . 
We  both  had  been  victims.  We  both  had  erred — she 
through  love  and  I  through  ignorance.  .  .  .  And 
besides!     .,     .     .     Can  any  human  being  ever  for- 


246    THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

give  another?  Only  God  can  truly  pardon.  .  . 
But  ...  I  realized  how  truly  great  and  noble 
her  love  had  been.  I  pitied  her,  Jacqueline.  I  almost 
think  that  in  those  last  sad  hours,  I  loved  her  .  .  . 
poor,  poor  woman!  And  I  could  not  refuse  her  last 
request.     .      .      ." 

Jacqueline  silently  watched  her  mother's  face  as 
she  spoke  and  saw  the  tears  she  shed  for  the  woman 
who  had  so  deeply  loved  her  own  husband. 

"What  an  angel  of  goodness  and  of  mercy  you 
are,  mother,  I  feel  that  never  shall  I  entirely  sound 
the  depths  of  your  heart ! " 

Frangoise  made  no  reply  save  a  sweet  protesting 
smile.  She  wiped  her  eyes  and  quietly  resumed  her 
embroidery. 

"But  why  did  she  leave  me  her  money  and  not 
you  ?    I  still  do  not  understand,"  persisted  Jacqueline. 

"She  loved  you,  dear,  yes  loved  you.  I  am  sure 
of  that  .  ,.  .  because  you  were  the  child  of  the 
man  whom  she  had  so  adored." 

For  a  few  moments  Jacqueline  was  again  silenced 
and  lost  in  thought. 

"I  am  trying  to  understand,  dear  mother,  and  to 
assimilate  your  own  divine  and  sympathetic  compre- 
hension. But  it  will  take  me  some  time  yet  to  reach 
your  perfection.  Tell  me  more  about  this  Madame 
Ducastel.  After  all!  if  you  could  forgive  her,  surely 
I  ought  to  do  so  too ! " 

Frangoise  smiled  again  at  her  daughter. 

"  Do  you  remember,  Jacqueline,  one  day  when  you 
were  thirteen  or  fourteen  years  old  and  were  still  a 


THE    EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    247 

pupil  at  the  Lycee,  I  once  left  you  alone  for  three  days 
in  the  care  of  our  good  Clemence?  I  told  you  then 
that  I  was  obliged  to  remain  with  a  dying  friend." 

"  Yes  .  .  .  yes  ..."  said  Jacqueline,  sud- 
denly remembering  and  following  her  memory  back 
along  those  nine  or  ten  years.  "Yes,  I  know  now. 
.  .  .  When  she  died,  you  and  I  alone  together  at- 
tended the  funeral.  I  wore  a  black  frock  and  you 
gave  me  a  sheaf  of  beautiful  white  lilies  to  place  on 
the  coffin.  You  prayed  with  me  at  the  side  of  the 
gravo.  .  .  .  Yes  .  .  .  Yes  ...  I 
remember." 

"  Well,  dearest,  it  was  Cecile  Ducastel's  hearse  we 
followed." 

"  Tell  me  more  about  this  woman,  mother   ..." 

"  She  left  you  her  money,  though  at  first  I  protested, 
as  an  atonement.  Could  I  refuse  her  that  poor  com- 
fort when  she  was  dying?    .     .     .    Could  I?" 

Jacqueline  pressed  her  mother's  hand  in  reply  and 
looked  up  at  her  adoringly  from  her  seat  at  her  feet. 
Burying  her  face  in  Frangoise's  lap  she  kissed  her 
knees.  But  she  made  no  other  reply  and  Frangoise 
continued  speaking: 

"  She  loved  your  father,  my  Jacqueline,  indeed  she 
did  sincerdy,  completely.  And  strange  though  ft 
might  appear  to  many  people,  she  loved  you  too,  be- 
cause you  were  his,  though  you  were  my  child  and 
not  hers.  As  she  lay  dying,  she  told  me  that  she  had 
often  followed  you  when  you  were  a  tiny  child,  and 
I  or  Clemence  took  you  to  play  in  the  Pare  Monceau. 
She  never  let  us  see  her  watch,  but  she  used  to  gaze 


248     THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE 

at  you  for  hours  together  while  you  made  mud  pies 
or  played  with  your  dolls.  .  .  .  You  were  the 
child  of  the  man  she  had  loved!  Was  that  not  pa- 
thetic, darling?  I  admit  that  it  touched  me 
greatly.     .      .      . " 

"  But,  mother  mine.  ...  I  still  don't  like  tak- 
ing that  money.     .     .     . " 

"  Ah !  don't  say  that,  dearest.  .  .  .  She  died 
so  happy  in  the  thought  that  it  might  atone  . 
even  a  little.  .  .  .  Try  to  forgive  her  too.  Be- 
lieve me — though  this  is  a  cruel  thing  for  me  to  have 
to  confess  to  my  daughter — she  loved  your  father  far 
better  than  ever  I  did !  For  she  continued  to  love  him 
even  ofter  she  had  known  his  unfaithfulness  both 
to  herself  and  to  me !  When  a  woman  loves  like  that, 
Jacqueline,  her  love  is  either  a  very  noble  or  a  very 
base  thing.  Hers  was  noble.  Many  might  judge  her 
harshly,  but  her  memory  compels  the  respect — or  at 
least  indulgence — of  those  who  understand.  She  was 
greatly  to  be  pitied.'* 

"  Dear  mother,  I  cannot  say  that  I  entirely  agree 
with  you  yet,  but  that  only  proves  how  inferior  I  am 
to  you.  .  .  .  You  are  supremely  good  and  wise 
in  all  your  judgments." 

And  Jacqueline  once  more  threw  herself  into  her 
mother's  arms,  and  kissed  her  affectionately.  She 
was  determined  henceforth  to  allow  her  own  opinions 
to  be  largely  influenced  by  Frangoise's  superior  ex- 
perience. 

Suddenly  she  sprang  to  her  feet  as  she  looked  at 
the  clock. 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    249 

"  Goodness !  I  must  be  off  to  the  cours.  And 
you've  not  been  out  for  days,  maman!  Do  come 
with  me  to  the  door  of  the  Sorbonne  and  walk  back 
through  the  Luxembourg  Gardens.  It  will  do  you 
such  good.  It's  such  a  lovely  day."  And  Frangoise 
agreeing  to  accompany  her  daughter  they  started  off 
together,  arm  in  arm,  like  two  companions  of  the 
same  age.  For  Jacqueline  instinctively,  without  rea- 
soning out  her  conduct  during  the  last  few  weeks  had 
avoided  her  friend  Nelly.'  Not  that  she  felt  in  any 
way  that  she  cared  for  her  less,  but  since  the  episode 
of  the  studio  and  the  part  Oliver  had  played  in  her 
destiny,  she  instinctively  felt  that  she  neither  wished 
to  see  him  nor  anyone  belonging  to  him  again.  So 
the  innocent  Nelly  was  ungenerously  sacrificed.  They 
met  every  day  at  the  Sorbonne,  as  a  matter  of  course, 
but  Jacqueline  always  found  a  fresh  excuse  to  elude 
the  further  companionship  of  her  friend.  Nelly  re- 
minded her  too  much  of  her  brother,  and  Oliver  re- 
minded her  too  intensely  of  her  most  bitter  experi- 
ence. Moreover  she  could  not  yet  reconcile  herself 
to  the  thought  of  forgiving  him.  Though  his  inter- 
ference had  been  timely  and  useful,  it  was  interfer- 
ence ;  and  that  the  proud  and  haughty  Jacqueline  could 
not  find  it  in  her  heart  to  forgive,  even  now.  She 
wished  to  punish  him  for  his  audacity  in  taking  that 
responsibility  of  defending  her  against  herself,  and 
she  experienced  a  sort  of  cruel  delight  in  making  him 
feel  her  anger.  She  knew  that  the  best  way  to  punish 
him  was  to  deny  him  the  joy  of  seeing  her. 

During  their  close  friendship,  while  the  painting  of 


2SO    THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

the  portrait  had  been  in  process,  the  minds  of  Jacque- 
line and  Oliver  had  very  closely  come  into  contact  and 
their  hearts  had  been  drawn  together  by  a  commun- 
ity of  feelings.  But  throughout  this  friendship  Jac- 
queline had  been  conscious  of  Oliver's  respectful  ad- 
miration, and  had  appreciated  it  as  one  of  her  most 
cherished  possessions.  She  had  wished  above  all 
things  to  retain  it  and  in  her  inmost  heart  could  not 
forgive  herself  for  having  lost  it  by  her  own  fault.  It 
was  the  very  basis  upon  which  his  feeling  for  her  had 
been  built.  It  was  therefore  most  bitter,  most  humili- 
ating for  her  to  be  reminded  by  seeing  Oliver,  that 
she  had  lost  this  respect,  and  to  feel  that  the  pedestal 
upon  which  he  had  placed  her  had  been  overthrown 
by  her  own  actions  and  the  tender  and  deferential 
consideration  she  once  had  inspired  in  him  forever 
destroyed. 

She  was  vexed  with  herself  and  her  pride  made  her 
still  more  vexed  with  Oliver  because  she  felt  that  he 
understood  her  humiliation.  Although  she  had  been 
momentarily  turned  from  her  intellectual  interest  in 
Oliver  by  her  passionate  love  for  Jerome,  she  had 
always  appreciated  Oliver's  opinions  most  highly  after 
the  long  conversations  during  the  hours  of  her  sit- 
tings, when  so  many  ideas  in  common  had  made  them 
such  close  friends.  Strange  to  say  she  had  never 
troubled  to  think  whether  Jerome  was  intellectually  a 
companion  for  her  or  not.  She  only  knew  that  she 
felt  happy  in  his  presence,  with  all  her  instincts 
aroused  in  full  activity.  Though  Oliver  had  never 
made  her  pulses  beat,  he  could  probe  her  mind,  and 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    251 

fathom  her  moral  and  psychological  being  far  better 
than  anyone  else,  even  excepting  her  dear  mother. 
During  all  the  weeks  and  months  when  her  anger 
against  Oliver  was  at  white  heat  almost,  every  day, 
she  was  astonished  to  discover  how  much  she  missed 
him  and  his  friendship.  She  now  began  to  understand 
all  that  Oliver's  companionship  had  meant  to  her 
being  conscious  of  the  void  his  absence  made  in  her 
life.  When  she  read  a  book,  or  saw  a  picture,  or 
went  to  a  play,  that  thrilled  her  with  intellectual  in- 
terest, she  found  herself  continually  regretting  the 
fact  that  she  had  no  friend  or  companion  with  whom 
she  might  exchange  her  impressions  and  opinions. 
For  in  such  moments  she  found  her  maman  cherie 
sadly  deficient.  And  Frangoise  herself  was  well  aware 
of  the  fact  that  she  could  not  sympathize  with  her 
daughter  on  an  intellectual  plane.  Her  early  educa- 
tion had  never  developed  in  her  any  taste  for  attain- 
ments of  the  mind.  She  had  never  been  able  and 
never  would  be  able,  to  follow  her  daughter's  intel- 
lectual pursuits.  In  the  domain  of  the  heart  and  of 
the  feelings  and  in  all  that  related  to  human  senti- 
ments, Frangoise  had  gone  far  beyond  the  point  of 
understanding  which  her  daughter  had  only  just 
reached.  And  in  all  things  concerning  the  philosophy 
of  life,  Jacqueline  now  recognised  her  mother's  supe- 
riority. Hers  was  the  supremacy  of  character  over 
learning.  But  it  could  not  compare  with  mental  cul- 
ture nor  replace  it,  and  there  came  moments  when 
Jacqueline  bitterly  regretted  her  feud  with  Oliver,  for 
no  one  of  her  entourage  had  ever  been  so  near  to  her- 


252    THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE 

self  in  all  processes  of  mental  conception  as  he  had 
been.  The  days  went  by,  and  the  months  had 
already  grown  nearly  into  a  year,  and  she  began  more 
and  more  to  appreciate  the  precious  thing  she  had  lost 
in  losing  Oliver.  And  as  her  passion  for  Jerome  had 
shown  itself  to  be  but  a  perishable  and  irnpermanent 
thing  that  had  had  no  real  rest  in  her  heart,  since  it 
had  been  scorched  out  of  existence  by  her  fiery  resent- 
ment, then  she  began  more  slowly  still  to  understand 
the  greater  relative  importance  of  intellectual  sympa- 
thy as  compared  to  mere  instinctive  selection.  Thus 
she  began  to  recognize  a  great,  incontrovertible 
truth.  But  her  pride  still  reigned  supreme,  and  her 
haughty  spirit  was  conscious  only  of  its  own  smart, 
forbidding  her  yet  to  own  that  truth  even  to  herself. 
After  Frangoise  had  left  Jacqueline  at  the  door  of 
the  Sorbonne  she  proceeded  to  return  home,  walking 
through  the  Luxembourg  Gardens  in  compliance  with 
Jacqueline's  wishes.  In  all  these  smaller  details  of 
life  Jacqueline  still  advised  and  Frangoise  obeyed. 
She  had  become  used  to  that  habit  during  the  years 
of  her  daughter's  petulant  childhood,  and  her  child's 
guidance  of  her  life  in  the  smaller  issues  had  been 
but  the  continuation  of  her  husband's  guidance.  For 
Frangoise's  moral  training  had  taught  her  to  obey 
the  decision  of  another  will  stronger  than  her 
own  because  of  its  sway  over  her  heart.  About 
half-way  through  the  Luxembourg  Frangoise,  feel- 
ing somewhat  tired,  sank  down  to  rest  upon  one 
of  the  stone  benches  that  surround  the  lake 
in  the  centre   of  the  grounds.    Around  here  were 


THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE    253 

many  good  and  earnest  mothers  of  the  hourgeoise,  per- 
forming their  self-imposed  duties  of  nursemaid,  as 
Frangoise  herself  had  done  years  before  in  the 
Pare  Monceau.  Her  gaze  swept  around  the  beautiful 
gardens.  Students  in  their  velvet  berets  were  passing 
to  and  fro  between  the  gates  on  the  right  and  on  the 
left,  and  mothers  and  nurses  accompanying  small 
children  who  played  among  the  shaded  alleys  as  Jac- 
queline had  done  of  yore,  were  attending  to  their 
charges.  Scholarly-looking  men — probably  professors 
at  the  Sorbonne,  at  the  College  de  France,  or  at  one 
of  the  larger  Lycees  near  by,  were  hurrying  to  their 
own  lectures.  Short-sighted  spectacled  girls  and  of 
untidy  appearance  and  fervent  features  with  heavy 
portfolios  of  books  carried  in  their  frail  arms,  were 
speeding  likewise  towards  some  cours  or  another  in 
preparation  for  some  examination. 

Within  the  last  twenty  years,  since  French  women 
have  been  admitted  to  the  various  degrees  of  the  Sor- 
bonne, a  new  type  of  French  maiden  has  sprung  up, 
the  etudiante,  or  female  student,  that  constitutes  a 
species  of  French  girlhood  apart  from  all  others.  The 
etudiante  is  not  so  masculine  as  the  similar  English 
type,  nor  so  unsexed;  but  she  is  distinctly  a  creature 
apart,  not  to  be  measured  by  the  same  standards  as 
other  jeunes  iilles.  She  presents  similar  idiosyncra- 
sies to  those  of  her  corresponding  type  in  England, 
showing  nevertheless  a  better  choice  in  the  selection 
of  her  clothes.  Her  hair  is  untidy,  her  footgear  is 
slipshod,  but  she  has  yet  retained  her  femininity  in 
her  eyes  and  in  the  expression  of  her  mouth.    She  is 


254    THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

still  pre-eminently  a  woman,  though  she  is  so  very 
different  to  the  other  women  of  her  nation.  She  is 
not  yet  a  third  sex,  but  forms  a  separate  class  of  her 
own  among  women.  One  can  see  that  she  is  thus  be- 
cause she  herself  has  not  voluntarily  chosen  her  fate, 
but  has  been  forced  by  circumstances  to  accept  it.  In- 
deed, at  first,  she  has  struggled  hard  against  it,  for  it 
is  quite  certain  she  would  have  preferred  to  have  been 
a  wife  and  mother.  But  her  prudent  and  far-seeing 
parents,  knowing  they  have  no  dowry  to  give  her  and 
consequently  no  husband  to  offer  her,  have  directed 
her  somewhat  unwilling  footsteps  into  the  paths  and 
highways  of  superior  culture,  in  the  hope  that  there 
she  may  find  her  salvation  and  her  livelihood.  So  she 
has  followed  the  road  that  leads  to  the  clash  between 
the  sexes,  and  by  degrees  she  has  lost  the  more  ap- 
parent qualifications  of  womanhood.  But  this  has 
been  wholly  involuntary  on  her  side,  and  all  her 
crushed  and  repressed  womanhood  still  lives  rebel- 
lious yet  in  her  sorrowful  eyes,  and  would  be  ready 
to  leap  up  and  extinguish  all  the  lesser  fires  of  her 
over-cultured  mentality  at  the  very  first  call  of  love 
claiming  her  as  his  own. 

As  Frangoise  looked  upon  these  frustrated  types 
of  womanhood  pressing  onwards  towards  the  Sor- 
bonne  she  compared  them  in  her  own  mind  with  Jac- 
queline and  she  realized  better  still  what  her  own 
daughter  was  and  how  more  complete  was  the  devel- 
opment of  her  child  who  possessed  all  the  intellectual- 
ity of  these  passing  etudiantes  and  still  retained  all 
the  compelling  feminine  appeal  of  the  more  strongly- 
sexed  woman. 


THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE    255 

In  the  midst  of  these  musings  she  was  astonished 
to  hear  her  name  called  and  looking  up  she  saw  Oliver 
Brent,  tall  and  fair,  with  bared  head  standing  before 
her.  He  had  walked  quickly  through  the  gardens  be- 
fore he  had  caught  sight  of  Frangoise,  and  the  exer- 
cise had  brought  a  colour  to  his  face.  His  eyes  were 
suddenly  aglow  with  his  spontaneous  delight  at  the 
meeting,  and  the  pallid  sun  of  the  winter  afternoon  lit 
up  his  bright  close-cropped  head  with  a  golden  glow. 
Frangoise  looking  upon  him  thought  what  a  comely 
man  he  was,  and  sighed  at  the  thought  of  Jacqueline's 
persistent  and  invincible  anger. 

"  I  am  so  pleased  to  see  you,  chore  madame,"  said 
Oliver  in  response  to  Franqoise's  greeting.  "I  was 
afraid  I  should  never  see  you  again."  He  blushed 
shame- facedly  as  he  spoke,  and  stopped  suddenly 
short.  He  did  not  know  whether  Frangoise  was 
aware  of  the  reasons  that  separated  him  from  Jacque- 
line. But  Frangoise,  anxious  to  hear  what  explana- 
tion he  would  give  her,  rushed  blindly  into  the  fray. 

"  You  never  come  to  see  us  now !  "  she  said  re- 
proachfully. "  You  have  not  been  near  me  for 
months!  " 

Oliver  sat  down  by  Frangoise*s  side  and  put  on  his 
hat  again.  He  was  somewhat  puzzled  as  to  what  an- 
swer he  could  make,  for  he  ignored  what  explanations 
Jacqueline  had  given  to  her  mother.  But  seeing  his 
painful  confusion,  Frangoise  added  with  spontaneous 
sympathy.  ..."  Alas !  I  know  why  you  have 
not  been  near  us,  you  dear  boy.  .  .  .  Yet  I  thank 
you  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart  for  what  you  did — 


256    THE  EDUCATION  OE  JACQUELINE 

I  at  least  shall  never  be  grateful  enough,  believe  me." 
Oliver  bent  over  Frangoise's  hands  and  kissed  them. 
His  heart  was  very  full,  and  he  could  not  speak.  But 
he  made  an  effort  and  gathered  himself  together  like 
the  strong  man  that  he  was. 

"  I  love  her  so ! "  he  muttered  to  himself. 

"  I  know  you  do,"  said  Frangoise  tenderly.  "  And 
I  am  happy  that  you  do.  There  is  no  one  whose  love 
for  her  I  appreciate  so  highly."  Oliver  was  silent. 
Again  he  pressed  Frangoise's  hand. 

"Oliver,  believe  me,  I  am  truly  sorry  that  Jacque- 
line's pride — false  pride  it  is  too,  and  she  knows  it  is, 
though  she  will  not  admit  it — ^has  led  to  your  estrange- 
ment.    .     .     .  " 

"Ah!  Jacqueline  is  obdurate  then?  I  was  afraid 
she  would  be ! "  he  said  sadly. 

"Alas!  I  think  so;  at  least  for  the  present,"  re- 
plied Frangoise. 

"  It  is  becoming  a  very  long  *  present '  I  "  said 
Oliver  sadly. 

Then  after  a  moment's  pause,  Frangoise  began: 

"You  see,  dear,  Jacqueline  is  very,  very  proud. 
And  her  pride  has  been  deeply — ^very  deeply  wounded. 
Her  sense  of  humiliation  is  very  great." 

"But  I  don't  regret  what  I  did — I  would  do  it 
again  if  it  were  necessary.  I  told  her  so,"  interrupted 
Oliver  harshly.  A  deep  flush  stained  his  fair  skin 
again  and  he  drew  his  brows  together  angrily  with 
fierce  determination. 

"  I  know    ...    I  know.    .     .    >    She  told  me 


THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE    257 

all  about  your  quarrel  too.  I  thinK  that  she  told  me 
everything,  Oliver,  everything." 

"Everything?"  queried  Oliver,  unconvinced. 

"Yes,  everything.  Her  attraction  towards  Jerome, 
his  asking  her  to  the  studio,  his  behaviour  to  her 
there,  and  finally  your  intervention — ^which  saved  her. 
Dear  Oliver!  I — ^her  mother  who  adores  her — shall 
never  be  able  to  thank  you  enough  for  what  you  did 
then,  even  though  you  wounded  her  pride  horribly. 
.     .     .     I  admit  that." 

"You  see,"  said  Oliver,  "it  was  so  simple.  It 
seemed  my  absolute  duty.  I  would  have  done  any- 
thing to  get  her  out  of  that  den.  I  did  what  I  did, 
cruel  though  it  was,  because  I  love  her." 

"  I  know  that  and  I  am  glad  that  it  is  so.  Can  I 
say  more?    There  is  no  man  to  whom  I  would  trust 

her  so  willingly "  said  FranQoise  in  a  grave  and 

gentle  voice. 

Oliver  turned  towards  FranQoise  on  the  bench  and 
again  he  looked  straight  at  her.  She  met  his  direct 
gaze,  and  there  were  tears  in  her  eyes. 

"  You  mean  that,  Madame  Reville  ?  " 

"I  do  mean  it,  Oliver." 

The  moisture  of  tears  welled  up  in  Oliver's  eyes, 
but  he  was  too  thoroughly  English-bred  to  allow 
his  emotions  to  master  him.  He  bent  his  head  over 
Frangoise's  hands  and  kissed  them  reverently  once 
more. 

"Thank  you,"  he  said  gently.  "I  do  not  know 
whether  my  hopes  will  ever  be  realized,  but  I  shall  be 


258     THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE 

eternally  grateful  to  you  for  your  trust  In  me."  Fran- 
Qoise  leaned  towards  him. 

"  Oliver,"  she  said  slowly  and  wistfully,  "  I  should 
dearly  love  to  have  you  for  my  son  .  .  .  some 
day." 

Oliver  still  held  her  hands  tightly  on  his.  He 
looked  long  at  her  once  more,  and  smiling  at  her. 

"  Maman  chcrie!"  he  murmured  gently  and  with 
great  tenderness.  Then  after  a  few  minutes'  very 
tense  silence  that  was  heavy  with  many  unshed  tears, 
Oliver  whispered:  "It's  the  first  time  since  my  own 
dear  mother  died  that  I  have  pronounced  that  word." 

Francoise  pressed  his  hand  again,  but  did  not 
speak,  and  after  a  few  more  moments  of  silence  she 
spoke : 

"  She  is  fond  of  you — at  least  she  was — until  the 
day  that  you  tried  to  manage  her  affairs." 

" — And  then  she  broke  away  like  a  restive  young 
horse." 

"Yes,"  and  Frangoise  smiled,  "but  I  know  my 
daughter.  She  will  perhaps  be  angry  with  you  for  a 
very  long  time.  But  in  the  end  she  will  get  over  her 
temper.  For  it  is  her  pride  and  her  vanity  that  are 
wounded — not  her  heart.  .  .  .  She  is  in  reality 
more  angry  with  herself  than  with  you.  .  ,  . 
And  she  is  angry  with  you  because  she  is  angry  with 
herself.     Do  you  see?" 

"Yes,  I  understand.  But  what  a  sweet  winsome 
creature  she  is !  And  what  a  sweet  woman  she  would 
make  for  a  wife." 

"  She  must  suffer  still  a  little  more  till  her  wicked 


THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE    259 

pride  has  given  in.  To  such  natures  as  Jacqueline's, 
sorrow  is  the  only  true  education.  It  will  teach  her 
to  uplift  her  soul  to  a  higher  conception  of  love  and 
of  life." 

"Are  you  not  rather  cruel  to  her,  chere  mamanf" 
urged  Oliver  gently. 

"  No,  I  am  not  cruel.  But  I  see  her  as  she  is  and 
not  through  the  eyes  of  a  lover.  .  .  .  Poor 
child  .  .  .  !  I  alone  am  to  blame,  for  it  is  my 
fault  that  she  is  so  wayward.  I  have  always  adored 
her  since  her  babyhood.  She  has  been  my  whole  life. 
I  was  determined  that  she  should  have  every  chance, 
so  I  gave  her  the  best  of  educations,  of  mental  train- 
ings. But  she  is  still  too  inexperienced  to  understand 
the  relative  value  of  things.  She  is  still  too  much  in- 
clined to  believe  in  the  sole  supremacy  of  brains, 
though  she  has  begun  to  discover  now  that  outside 
things  can  resist  her,  and  that  she  is  powerless  to  force 
them  to  conform  to  her  individual  will.  When  she 
has  suffered  still  more  and  matured  in  the  discovering 
of  life,  she  will  be  a  delightfully  complete  crea- 
ture. She  is  elaborating  a  new  soul  now.  In  the  proc- 
ess of  cultivating  her  brain  she  has  allowed  her  heart 
to  stagnate  a  little.  But  she  does  possess  a  heart.  Be- 
lieve me.  And  she  is  a  woman  too !  And  such  a  ter- 
ribly feminine  one,  the  dear  child!"  for  FranQoise's 
mind  had  reverted  to  the  etudiantes  she  had  just  been 
observing.  "  She  is  full  of  sex,  though  she  does  not 
yet  realize  the  divinity  of  it  in  herself.  But  Oliver, 
be  gentle  and  above  all  patient.  She  will  find  out 
some  day  that  it  is  you  and  you  alone  she  must  love. 


26o    THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

I  am  sure  of  that.  She  is  already  beginning  to  dis- 
cover that  she  misses  you.  You  are  the  only  man — 
in  fact  the  only  person — whose  brain  she  respects  and 
admires.  That  is  your  greatest  claim  upon  her,  and 
with  a  girl  of  Jacqueline's  mental  capacities  that  is  a 
very  strong  claim.  Though  I  am  not  an  intellectual 
woman  myself,  I  quite  understand  that.     .     .     .  " 

"But  if  she  never  lets  me  see  her?" 

"A  time  will  come  when  she  will.  Be  hopeful  and 
keep  up  your  courage.  She  will  feel  the  need  of  you 
terribly  some  day,  when  she  discovers  that  she  cannot 
do  without  her  friend,  her  comrade.  She  will  suffer 
from  your  absence  and  will  find  out  that  she  misses 
you.    But  be  patient;  wait  and  hope." 

Oliver  pressed  Frangoise's  hand. 

"Dear  maman  cherie!  You  have  done  me  so 
much  good.  You  have  given  me  hope.  And  hope  is 
life.    Thank  you  again." 

Frangoise  rose  from  her  seat.  It  was  time  to  be 
going  homewards. 

"  Good-bye,  my  dear  son.  You  may  tell  dear  Mrs. 
Brent  and  Nelly  that  you  have  seen  me,  and  give  them 
my  love.  The  good,  kind  creatures !  They  must  think 
it  strange  that  we  have  so  suddenly  abandoned  them ! 
But  we  cannot  explain — can  we?" 

"They  think  it  strange,  that  is  certain.  But  I 
have  given  them  to  understand  that  I've  quarrelled 
with  Jacqueline.  They  are  both  loyal  and  patient. 
They  quite  understand,  and  are  just  waiting  .  .  . 
like  myself.     .     .     . " 

"You  are  all  dear  people!    You  dear,  dependable. 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    261 

faithful  English  friends.  I  do  appreciate  you  well. 
At  least  be  sure  of  that.  And  now  good-bye.  .  .  . 
Of  course  I  shall  not  tell  Jacqueline  that  we  have 
met.  She  would  accuse  me  of  heinous  disloyalty  to 
herself." 

"Yes — I  know "  murmured  Oliver  sadly. 

And  Frangoise  left  him  standing  bareheaded  in 
the  late  sunshine  in  the  midst  of  the  delights  of  the 
old  gardens.  The  sun  had  fallen  in  a  dull  red  glow 
behind  the  intricate  lace  work  of  the  leafless  trees. 
Mothers  and  nursemaids  with  their  charges  were  pre- 
paring to  depart,  as  the  wintry  twilight  was  prepar- 
ing to  enshroud  all  Paris. 

FrauQoise  reached  home  just  in  time  to  prepare 
JacqueHne's  tea. 


CHAPTER   XV 

The  long  winter  was  past.  There  was  a  new  breath' 
of  spring  in  the  air.  Frangoise's  small  salon  looked 
gay  and  festive,  for  to-day  was  her  at-home  day. 
There  was  no  fire  in  the  grate,  for  this  year's  balmy 
mid-April  precluded  all  thoughts  of  artificial  warmth 
indoors.  The  air  was  indeed  so  summer-like  to-day, 
that  Frangoise  had  left  open  one  of  the  three  win- 
dows that  had  a  view  over  the  garden  at  the  back 
of  the  house.  In  the  deep  recess  made  by  the  wide- 
flung  sashes,  a  small  settee  was  ensconced  which  of- 
fered comfortable  accommodation  for  those  causeurs 
who  preferred  a  tete-a-tete  to  general  conver- 
sation. The  room  was  provided  with  plenty  of  extra 
chairs  in  hope  of  many  visitors,  and  vases  filled  with 
bright  spring  flowers — ^purple  and  creamy  irises  pre- 
dominating— ^made  masses  of  colour  in  every  corner. 
It  was  a  free  day  for  Jacqueline  at  the  Sorbonne.  She 
was  very  keen  upon  competing  for  the  Licence  the 
following  year,  and  in  consequence  was  working  as- 
siduously and  not  missing  a  single  cours,  so  that  her 
presence  at  one  of  her  mother's  "  at  homes "  was  a 
rare  thing.  Clemence  had  decorated  the  small  dining- 
room,  aided  and  directed  by  Jacqueline  herself,  that 
morning  and  between  them  they  had  made  the  room, 
papered  with  a  creamy  paper,  and  furnished  with  old 
dark  oaken  furniture,  bright  with  many  golden  daf- 

S63 


THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE    263 

fodils  and  much  light  greenery  that  Jacqueline  had 
collected  in  the  garden.  The  table  was  decorated  witH 
lace  d'oyleys  around  a  wide  embroidered  centre-piece 
' — the  work  of  Frangoise's  clever  fingers ;  the  teacups 
were  arranged  in  a  circle,  and  various  plates  of  cake 
and  petits  fours  were  tastefully  set  to  offer  the  guests. 
It  was  so  very  seldom  that  Jacqueline  was  able  to  as- 
sist her  mother  at  these  informal  monthly  festivities 
when  Madame  Reville  received  and  entertained  her 
friends  and  acquaintances,  that  Frangoise  had  insisted 
upon  this  being  considered  a  special  occasion,  and  had 
made  extra  preparations  in  consequence.  Among  her 
friends  Frangoise  numbered  several  artists,  clever 
amateur  or  professional  performers  on  the  piano  or 
violin,  or  singers  of  renown  and  ability.  Some  good 
music  had  been  promised  to  the  guests  who  arrived 
in  numbers  at  about  five  o'clock.  After  tea  had  been 
served  in  the  dining-room,  all  the  visitors  trooped  back 
into  the  cool  and  charming  salon  with  its  three  gay 
views  upon  the  lovely  budding  garden,  to  listen  to 
the  recitals  of  a  clever  actor  from  the  Comedie  Fran- 
gaise,  to  the  playing  of  a  young  pupil  of  the  Conserva- 
toire, and  above  all  to  applaud  Eve  Norris,  the  cele- 
brated English  cantatrice  from  the  Opera  Comique, 
who  was  an  old  acquaintance  of  Frangoise  and  Jac- 
queline, and  whose  name  alone  was  sufficient  to  call 
together  all  the  music-lovers  of  Paris.  Jacqueline, 
who  during  most  of  the  winter  had  been  somewhat 
listless  and  inclined  to  sit  by  the  fire  in  the  evenings 
instead  of  accepting  Pomm's  invitation  to  the  theatre 
or  attending  evening  gatherings  at  the  houses  of 


264    THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

various  friends  of  her  mother's,  had  to-day  decided 
to  put  off  her  more  sombre  thoughts  and  join  Fran- 
^oise  in  the  pleasure  of  receiving  her  guests.  With 
her  shrewd  observation,  Frangoise  had  noticed  that 
by  degrees  youth  was  getting  the  better  of  Jacque- 
line's disappointment  and  sorrow,  and  that  soon  her 
dear  one  would  be  emerging  from  her  voluntary  re- 
traite  and  be  as  actively  engaged  upon  enjoying  her- 
self as  before. 

She  had  gone  with  much  eagerness  with  Frangoise 
to  the  dressmaker's  to  help  her  to  choose  a  new  spring 
gown  for  herself,  and  in  her  draperies  of  pale  blue 
voile  de  soie  she  looked  a  very  charming  picture.  Per- 
haps because  a  more  conscious  womanhood  was  grow- 
ing within  her,  Jacqueline's  very  beauty  was  altering, 
and  softening  wonderfully.  The  firm  lines  of  her 
mouth  had  somewhat  relaxed,  and  had  become 
sweeter.  Her  eyes,  black  and  heavily  fringed  beneath 
her  rather  prominent  though  finely  pencilled  brows 
were  less  sparkling  perhaps,  but  had  a  more  tender 
expression.  She  still  wore  her  bright  rebellious  hair 
massed  up  high  upon  the  top  of  her  small  head  like  a 
royal  crown  of  gold.  Though  she  was  tall  and  very 
slim,  the  angles  of  her  body,  perceptible  only  when  she 
moved,  seemed  also  to  have  softened  down  too  and  to 
have  become  more  flexible.  There  was  a  more  femi- 
nine grace  about  her  than  before,  and  less  of  the 
springing  joyousness  of  the  hoyden.  When  she  smiled, 
there  was  a  chastened  melancholy  in  her  smile  that 
had  lost  its  rather  supercilious  superiority  of  former 
days.    She  helped  her  mother  to  do  the  honours  of 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    265 

the  table  with  deliberate  charm  and  distinction.  She 
was  polite  and  gracious  to  each  and  every  one,  and 
the  former  buoyancy  of  her  rather  assertive  self-re- 
liance seemed  to  have  given  way  to  a  more  conscious 
reserve,  and  to  a  certain  gravity  of  tone  and  gesture 
that  was  most  perceptible  to  those  of  her  friends  who 
knew  her  very  well.  But  the  change  in  Jacqueline 
had  been  so  gradual  and  was  so  subtle  that  it  was  not 
evident  to  mere  superficial  observers,  though  it  was 
like  a  new  radiance  shining  from  within  her.  Alone 
her  mother  understood  its  full  and  real  significance. 

All  through  the  long  days  of  the  past  winter  when 
the  thoughts  of  both  Frangoise  and  her  daughter  had 
been  so  intimately  wedded,  the  name  of  the  Brents 
had  rarely  been  pronounced  between  them.  If  at 
times  Jacqueline  spoke  of  Nelly,  it  was  as  one  speaks 
of  a  friend  one  has  had  in  one's  youth,  and  of  whom 
one  has  retained  kind  memories  without  any  wish  of 
meeting  again.  In  her  present  mood,  Jacqueline's 
mind  was  entirely  introspective  and  the  only  other 
creature  in  the  world  who  interested  her  just  now, 
besides  herself,  was  her  mother.  Although  all  com- 
panionship upon  an  intellectual  basis  was  impossible 
between  them  because  of  Jacqueline's  more  varied  at- 
tainments, yet  for  the  moment  Jacqueline  found  the 
study  of  her  own  emotions  and  those  which  her 
mother  spoke  of  so  often  to  her  now,  all-important 
for  the  present.  Even  the  books  and  studies  which 
had  occupied  her  mind  solely  hitherto,  seemed  mo- 
mentarily savourless  to  her,  for  she  had  been 
roused  suddenly  to  an  interest  in  human  nature  itself 


266    THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

and  the  mere  pleasures  of  the  human  intellect  no 
longer  appealed  to  her  with  the  same  keen  force. 

It  was  this  upheaval  in  the  preoccupation  of  her 
mind  which  had  burst  through  the  outward  semblance 
of  the  young  girl  and  which  permeating  her  spirit  had 
altered  her  appearance  in  so  elusive  yet  complicated 
a  manner.  Since  the  day  of  her  explanation  with  her 
mother,  with  a  great  effort  of  will  she  had  tried  to 
put  all  dreams,  all  thoughts  of  Jerome  from  her  mind. 
But  though  there  were  rare  hours  when  he  was  as 
but  a  memory  to  her,  that  did  not  prevent  her  from 
often  thinking  of  him  still.  Love's  young  dreams  die 
hard ;  and  Jerome  d' Ablis  had  made  a  great  impression 
upon  her  youthful  heart  and  brain  because  he  had  been 
the  first  man  who  had  dared  to  pierce  the  outward 
armour  of  her  rather  farouche  and  maidenly  reserve, 
and  to  make  a  direct  appeal  to  her  heart.  She  was  still 
too  young  to  realize  this  fully,  for  she  was  at  least 
conscious  of  the  remorseful  pain  she  felt  when  she 
allowed  her  memory  to  dwell  once  more  retrospect- 
ively upon  her  charm  and  fascination.  Even  now,  the 
memory  of  their  moonlight  walk  in  the  woods  of 
Marly,  and  of  the  first  kiss  they  had  exchanged  upon 
the  threshold  of  his  studio  as  he  had  drawn  her  into 
his  embrace,  had  the  power  to  thrill  her  passionately. 
Many  nights  when  Franqoise  had  believed  her  to  be 
asleep,  Jacqueline  lay  stretched  upon  her  narrow  bed, 
her  face  pressed  downwards  into  the  pillows  so  as  to 
stifle  the  noise  of  her  sobs,  weeping  her  heart  out  in 
agony.  Had  Frangoise  known  of  these  dark  hours 
she  would  have  suffered  bitterly  herself,  for  there  was 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    267 

no  greater  grief  for  her  than  the  knowledge  that  she 
could  not  entirely  share  the  sorrow  of  her  best-be- 
loved one.  But  Jacqueline  possessed  the  temperament 
of  the  amoureuse  which  her  mother,  having  not,  could 
not  understand.  Frangoise's  brain  could  only  com- 
pass the  impulses  that  were  prompted  from  the  heart, 
not  those  urged  by  the  senses.  And  as  tenderness 
alone  could  raise  her  to  great  heights  of  comprehen- 
sion, she  was  powerless  to  judge  her  daughter's  urg- 
ings  towards  warmer  feelings.  As  she  neither  felt,  nor 
understood  passion  herself,  she  was  apt  to  underrate 
its  strength,  and  she  never  quite  conceived  what  forces 
Jacqueline  had  to  contend  with.  She  did  not  com- 
prehend that  from  her  father,  her  child  had  inherited 
deep  emotional  powers  which  were  promptings  which 
had  nothing  in  common  with  her  own  more  placid 
and  better-disciplined  impulses.  She  did  not  entirely 
realize  similar,  that  though  their  two  souls  might 
unite  on  a  basis  of  affectionate  understanding,  yet  the 
hearts  of  mother  and  child  could  never  really  be  as 
one,  because  of  the  essential  difference  in  their  natures. 
Though  Jacqueline  judged  Jerome  most  severely 
and  was  determined  never  to  meet  him  again,  for  she 
now  saw  clearly  through  his  vile  calculations,  yet  the 
passion  in  her  young  heart  yearned  towards  him  still 
as  it  probably  never  might  again  yearn  towards  any 
man.  For  Jacqueline,  though  she  did  not  understand 
it  yet  herself — and  might  perhaps  not  understand  it  for 
many  years  to  come — was  not  a  passive  female  crea- 
ture like  her  mother.  She  was  a  creature  of  active 
temperament,  and  even  if  she  had  never  had  the  free 


268    THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

upbringing  which  Frangoise  had  decided  to  give  her, 
she  was  essentially  of  the  race  of  those  who  are  capa- 
ble of  breaking  down  all  barriers  to  gain  the  gratifica- 
tion of  their  own  instincts.  Fortunately  for  Jacque- 
line, her  training  had  built  around  her  soul  the  strong 
fortress  of  her  will,  so  that  she  could  curb  and  restrain 
her  restive  spirit  by  the  severe  discipline  of  her  deter- 
mination even  though  she  could  not  destroy  it  com- 
pletely. But  the  spiritual  effort  which  this  necessitated 
cost  her  far  more  vitality  than  her  mother  could  ever 
have  understood.  So  not  only  was  Jacqueline  forced 
to  uphold  this  struggle  alone,  but  she  was  obliged 
to  conceal  it  from  her  mother's  uncomprehending 
eyes. 

As  Frangoise  herself  was  essentially  the  type  of  the 
passive  woman — that  artificial  product  of  centuries 
of  hereditary  repression,  her  own  temperament  had 
been  crushed  out  by  her  education  as  Jacqueline's  had 
been  accrued  and  almost  over-developed  by  hers. 
Notwithstanding  all  her  acquired  experience,  all  her 
sympathy  and  all  her  love,  Frangoise  never  under- 
stood the  violent  promptings  of  Jacqueline's  blood. 
And  Jacqueline,  realizing  this  incomprehension  of  her 
mother's,  concealed  from  her  watchful  loving  eyes  the 
hours  of  her  bitterest  anguish. 

After  the  famous  actor  had  given  his  recitations 
from  the  classics,  the  lady  from  the  Conservatoire 
had  played  the  violin  and  at  last  Eve  Norris'  magnif- 
icant  enthralling  voice  had  conquered  the  hearts  and 
nerves  of  the  assembled  guests.  Again  and  again  the 
famous   singer  had   generously   complied  with  the 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    269 

wishes  of  Frangoise  and  had  sung  several  songs  for 
the  delight  of  the  assembly;  yet  the  hours  were  slip- 
ping by  and  after  the  last  song  most  of  the  guests, 
still  under  the  charm  of  that  wonderful  music,  had 
reluctantly  risen  to  depart.  Jacqueline,  whose  soul 
had  been  uplifted  into  the  regions  of  dreams  by  the 
majestic  beauty  of  sound,  seemed  to  return  to  earth 
as  she  rose  with  her  mother  to  receive  the  thanks 
and  the  parting  greetings  of  their  friends.  For  a  few 
moments  longer  the  great  prima  donna  lingered  in 
the  almost  deserted  salon  with  Frangoise  and  her 
daughter,  delighted  with  the  delight  she  herself 
had  created.  And  then,  with  handshakes  and  af- 
fectionate greetings,  she  had  left  them  to  go  and  dress 
for  the  evening  performance  with  a  promise  to  sing 
for  them  again  soon  at  another  party.  After  her  de- 
parture the  salon  suddenly  seemed  entirely  emptied 
when  mother  and  daughter  returned  to  it  once  more. 
As  the  late  spring  afternoon  had  now  become  chilly, 
Jacqueline  closing  the  open  windows  prepared  to  re- 
arrange the  chairs  of  the  room  in  their  natural  order, 
once  more,  when  suddenly  there  was  a  ring  at  the 
bell.  As  it  was  nearly  seven  o'clock,  both  Frangoise 
and  Jacqueline  were  somewhat  surprised  at  the  ar- 
rival of  so  belated  a  visitor. 

"  Perhaps  it's  Pomm ! "  exclaimed  Jacqueline  in 
answer  to  her  mother's  interrogatory  look. 

"  I'm  sure  it  isn't.  You  know  he  never  comes  near 
us  on  our  at-home  days.  He  hates  meeting  peo- 
ple.   .    .    ." 

"That's  true,"  said  Jacqueline  smiling  as  she  re- 


270    THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

membered  Pomm's  avoidance  of  new  acquaintances. 
"Then  who  can  it  be?" 

She  was  soon  answered.  Clemence  entered  the 
room  and  announced  Mrs.  Brent. 

At  the  mere  name,  Jacqueline's  face  froze  and  be- 
came quite  white.  She  rose  from  her  chair  with  a 
spring,  and  before  Frangoise  could  stop  her  had  turned 
and  left  the  salon  by  the  door  which  communicated 
with  her  mother's  room.  At  the  same  moment  Mrs. 
Brent  entered  breathless  and  diffident  by  the  other 
door. 

"  Dear  Madame  Reville !  I  felt  I  must  come.  Do 
forgive  me  if  I  am  not  welcome.  .  .  ."  said  the 
good  woman  as  she  held  out  her  hand.  The  expres- 
sion of  her  kindly  countenance  was  most  appealing. 
There  were  tears  too  in  her  bright  blue  eyes,  and  the 
loose  lips  of  her  expansive  mouth  were  trembling. 

"  Dear  Mrs.  Brent ! "  said  Frangoise  as  she  grasped 
the  outstretched  hand — gloved  in  a  wrinkled  black 
suede  glove.  "  Of  course  you  are  welcome  and  of 
course  I  am  delighted  to  see  you ! " 

"That's  just  what  I  said  to  Nelly  before  I  came," 
exclaimed  Mrs.  Brent,  triumphantly,  immediately  re- 
assured by  Frangoise's  words.  "  *  I  can't  stay  away 
from  Madame  Reville  any  longer,'  I  said,  *and  so 
whatever  you  do  I  am  going  to  see  her.  I  know 
she  likes  me,  and  even  if  you  young  people  have  had 
a  tiff,  there's  no  reason  why  we  old  fogies  should  not 
be  friendly.     .     .     .* " 

Whenever  Mrs.  Brent  alluded  to  her  as  an  "old 
fogey,"  Frangoise  could  not  refrain  from  amusement. 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    271 

She  burst  into  irrepressible  laughter  now  at  once. 
"You  are  quite  right,  Mrs.  Brent.  There  is  no 
reason  why  you  should  not  come  to  see  me  if  you 
want  to.  I  assure  you  that  my  personal  feelings 
towards  all  of  you  have  never  tmdergone  any  change. 

"  Dear  Madame  Reville,  I  am  so  glad  to  hear  you 
say  that,"  said  Mrs.  Brent  as  she  subsided  into  a  low 
cushioned  divan,  from  the  depths  of  which  her  curly 
white  head  alone  seemed  to  emerge,  crowned  with 
a  small  bonnet  of  red  roses  that  bobbed  up  and  down 
looking  like  a  gaily  painted  buoy  carrying  a  crimson 
flag,  ever  triumphant  on  the  waves  of  a  stormy  sea. 

"  You  see,  my  dear,"  continued  the  good  lady  as 
she  patted  Frangoise's  hand,  and  looked  at  her  with 
affection,  "I  know  there's  been  a  misunderstanding 
between  Oliver  and  Jacqueline,  and  though  Nelly  and 
I  do  not  know  what  it  has  been  about — ^nor  do  we  wish 
to  pry  into  Oliver's  affairs  to  find  out — ^yet  we  quite 
understand  that  Jacqueline  does  not  like  to  come  to 
our  house  for  fear  of  meeting  Oliver.  Yet  notwith- 
standing that  I  am  quite  determined  that  /  shall  come 
to  see  you  sometimes  since  you  are  not  opposed  to  my 
visits.     .      .      ." 

"  Of  course  I  am  not,  dear  Mrs.  Brent.  Now  tell 
me  how  are  Nelly  and  Oliver?'*  she  added,  hesitat- 
ingly, as  she  offered  her  visitor  some  tea. 

"Oh,  they  are  both  as  well  as  possible,  though 
Oliver  is  a  bit  stern  and  silent,  and  at  times  looks  pale 
and  rather  miserable. 

Frangoise  made  no  answer.  She  knew  that  it  was 
true  that  Mrs.  Brent  was  totally  ignorant  as  to  what 


272     THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

had  caused  the  estrangement  between  OHver  and  her 
daughter,  and  she  neither  wished  to  enhghten  her,  nor 
indeed  to  allude  to  the  subject  more  than  was  possi- 
ble. She  did  not  mention  the  fact  of  her  having  met 
Oliver  in  the  Luxembourg  Gardens,  knowing  also 
that  Oliver  himself  would  not  have  spoken  of  it  to 
his  aunt  and  sister. 

"Listen,  dear  Madame  Reville,"  said  the  excellent 
woman.  "  I've  come  to  make  another  proposition. 
Not  the  same  one  as  last  year.  But  it's 
quite  as  nice  an  idea,  I  can  tell  you!" 

"  Well,"  said  Frangoise,  for  she  was  always  amused 
at  the  good  lady's  exuberance,  "I'm  waiting  to  hear 
what  it  is.  Your  proposals  have  generally  something 
soundly  good  in  them !  " 

"  Well,  you  know  that  Nelly's  three  years  of  study 
in  Paris  will  be  terminated  in  June.  I  had  let  my 
house  in  Kensington,  furnished  for  three  years;  but 
now  the  lease  is  up,  and  the  Americans  who  had  it 
are  going  back  to  their  native  shores  at  the  end  of 
May.  So  I  am  going  to  give  up  the  lease  of  my  flat 
in  the  Boulevard  Raspail  at  the  same  date  and  return 
home  with  Nelly.  Oliver  will  of  course  remain 
here  because  of  his  work.  He  has  decided  to  make 
Paris  always  his  home,  though  he  will  often  come 
for  months  together  to  England  to  stay  with 
us.  He  has  taken  Jerome  d'Ablis'  empty  studio  next 
door  to  his  own — for  I  suppose  you've  heard  that 
Jerome  has  been  appointed  somewhere  in  South 
America  and  is  on  his  way  there  now." 

Mrs.  Brent  paused  for  breath,  but  as  Frangoise 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    273 

made  no  comment,  she  resumed :  "  Oliver  has  opened 
a  door  between  the  two  rooms  so  that  one  will  serve 
him  for  a  bedroom.  He  will  lunch  and  dine  at  a  res- 
taurant. Of  course — as  I  tell  him — ^that  is  not  a  good 
way  of  living  for  a  man  of  his  age.  But  I  hope  that 
he'll  marry  some  day  and  have  a  home  of  his  own. 
He  is  coining  money  literally,  and  as  he  is  not  entirely 
impecunious  on  his  father's  side,  we  shall  see  him  a 
rich  and  fashionable  painter  yet." 

Frangoise  had  not  spoken  during  Mrs.  Brent's  long 
harangue. 

"  Well !  I  suppose  you  have  come  to  say  good-bye 
to  us  then  ?  "  Frangoise  now  remarked  sadly,  "  and  we 
shall  not  see  you  again.     .     .     ." 

"  Not  at  all,"  put  in  Mrs.  Brent  vivaciously,  and  the 
very  roses  of  her  bonnet  shook  with  a  spirit  of  nega- 
tion, "  not  at  all !  I  have  not  said  all  I  have  to  say 
yet !  What  I  am  going  to  propose  is  that  you  should 
come  and  spend  the  summer  with  us  in  London.  .  .  . 
There  now ! "  as  Frangoise's  features  suddenly  became 
blank  .  .  •  "  It's  out  at  last,  and  can't  be  helped ! 
I  want  you  to  consider  my  proposal  most  seriously, 
even  if  it  does  surprise  you  a  little  at  first.  You  can't 
possibly  include  Nelly  and  me  in  your  quarrel  with 
Oliver,  can  you?  We've  nothing  to  do  with  it,  have 
we?  And  we  shall  be  so  lonely  at  first  without  any 
of  our  French  friends  and  without  Oliver,  who  can't 
possibly  come  over  till  the  autumn.  You  two  would 
do  us  more  good  than  anyone !  Surely  you  still  love 
Nelly  and  me?" 

"  Certainly  we  do,  we  love  you  dearly,"  said  Fran- 


274    THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

qolse  reassuringly.  "  Indeed  it  is  most  kind  of  you 
to  invite  us,  and  I  greatly  appreciate  your  generosity 
in  understanding  and  accepting  the  situation  so  frankly. 

But -'  and  she  stopped  hesitatingly.     "  There  is 

Jacqueline  to  be  consulted,  of  course  .  .  .  and 
even  if  she  is  willing — which  I  greatly  doubt — ^I  am 
obliged  to  confess  to  you  sincerely  that  a  journey  to 
England  seems  a  great  undertaking  for  me!  You 
know  I  am  one  of  those  old-fashioned  French  women 
whom  the  very  thought  of  travelling  terrifies!" 

"Oh,  a  trip  to  London  from  Paris  is  nothing!  I 
am  sure  Jacqueline  would  enjoy  it.  She  will  induce 
you.     .      .      ." 

"  I  certainly  will ! "  said  a  bright  voice  at  the  open 
door  of  Frangoise's  bedroom,  and  Jacqueline  walked 
into  the  room.  As  she  had  sat  alone  in  the  next  room 
she  had  made  a  sudden  determination  to  vanquish  the 
strange  feeling  of  shame  that  she  felt  at  the  mere 
mention  of  the  Brents'  name,  and  had  resolved  to  con- 
quer all  her  fears  instantly.  Opening  the  door  of  her 
mother's  room,  she  had  heard  Mrs.  Brent's  last  words. 

"  Then  you  will  come,  I  am  sure,"  said  Mrs.  Brent 
as  she  kissed  Jacqueline's  pale  cheek,  "  for  you  always 
manage  your  mother  so  well ! " 

"To  the  best  of  my  ability  at  least,"  replied  Jac- 
queline laughing.  "  I  am  most  anxious  to  visit  Eng- 
land and  shall  be  delighted  to  see  Nelly  again.  How 
is  she,  by-the-bye  ?  " 

"  Very  well,  my  dear ;  and  she'll  be  crazy  with  de- 
light at  the  thought  of  having  you  at  Rose  Lodge." 

"  That's  very  good  of  her.    I  appreciate  her  mag- 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    27-5 

nanimity,  dear  Mrs.  Brent,  for  I've  been  an  ungrate- 
ful beast  to  Nelly.  I  see  that  now.  But  I  can't  see 
Oliver  yet — I  assure  you,"  she  said  after  a  moment's 
reflection,  for  she  thought  it  better  to  break  into  the 
subject  at  once.  "  Later  on  I  may  perhaps  be  able 
to  feel  friendly  towards  him  again,  but  not  yet.  I 
can't.  He  has  been  too  impertinent  ...  .1  can't. 
.      .     .     I  can't!" 

She  had  almost  forgotten  the  presence  of  Oliver's 
aunt  and  her  own  mother  in  her  feeling  of  sudden, 
renewed  resentment  at  Oliver. 

"  Oh,  Jacqueline !  .  .  ."  began  Mrs.  Brent,  most 
distressed  at  this  unexpected  outburst.  But  Fran- 
goise  had  laid  her  hand  gently  on  the  kind  lady's  arm 
and  stopped  all  further  speech- 

"  Don't  let  us  ever  discuss  Jacqueline's  and  Oliver's 
affairs,  dear  friend.  They  must  right  themselves, 
without  our  interference."  And  then  in  a  lighter  tone 
she  added: 

"  We  shall  be  delighted  to  go  and  stay  with  you  and 
Nelly,  since  you  have  so  kindly — so  generously  for- 
given our  long  silence  and  invited  us  to  go  to  you 
.  .  ."  Then  she  turned  to  Jacqueline  and  said 
whimsically : 

"  Do  you  really  think  I  shall  be  able  to  stand  that 
odious  sea  passage  to  Dover,  Jacqueline?" 

"Of  course  you  will,  darling,"  said  Jacqueline,  who 
having  gathered  herself  together,  smiled  at  her  mother 
and  spoke  in  her  old  domineering  way,  "  for  shan't  I 
be  there  to  look  after  you  ?  " 

At  Jacqueline's  tone  the  three  women  began  to 


276    THE  EDUCATION  OE  JACQUELINE 

laugh,  and  the  strain  was  at  once  relieved,  for  it 
seemed  that  with  her  old  wilful  and  commanding 
spirit  Jacqueline's  equanimity  had  suddenly  returned 
to  her  once  more. 

And  all  was  well  again  in  Frangoise's  tender,  loving 
heart 


CHAPTER   XVI 

So  one  bright  morning  in  May,  Frangoise  and  Jacque- 
line, accompanied  by  the  faithful  Clemence,  closed  up 
the  flat  in  Paris  and  leaving  it  in  charge  of  the  con- 
cierge, who  kept  the  key  of  it  and  promised  to  go 
up  twice  a  week  to  dust  it — took  the  train  at  the  Gare 
du  Nord  for  Calais.  They  were  to  cross  by  the  Calais- 
Dover  boat  in  the  daytime,  for  Frangoise,  who,  as 
she  had  herself  declared,  was  quite  an  old-fashioned 
type  of  Frenchwoman  in  the  matter  of  travelling, 
feared  a  passage  across  the  Channel  in  the  darkness. 
They  lunched  in  the  train  leaving  Clemence  to  look 
after  their  bags  in  the  first-class  compartment  while 
they  went  into  the  restaurant  car.  Oemence,  with 
the  thriftiness  that  characterises  the  women  of  her 
class,  and  which  sometimes,  though  very  rarely  in 
these  modern  days,  they  bring  to  bear  upon  the  in- 
terests of  their  employers,  had  scorned  the  idea  of 
allowing  madame  to  pay  five  francs  for  her  luncheon. ' 

"Que  madame  et  mademoiselle  dejeunent  dans  le 
train,  c' est  bien     .     .     .     mais  pas  mot     .     .     .'!" 

"But  you  must  have  lunch  too!"  Jacqueline  had 
objected. 

*'Oui — but  I'll  manage.  Mademoiselle  need  not 
worry  about  me.    I'll  take  care  of  myself." 

So  while  FrauQoise  and  her  daughter  had  left  the 
carriage,  leaving  Clemence  alone,  the  worthy  woman 
who  had  never  travelled  since  she  had  left  her  own 

a77 


278    THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

Vosgian  village  twenty-five  years  before,  drew  the 
substantial  repast  which  she  had  prepared  for  herself 
out  of  a  canvas  bag,  that  had  never  left  her  hand 
since  she  had  departed  from  home  that  morning. 
Upon  several  occasions  Jacqueline  had  laughingly 
asked  her  what  she  carried  in  the  mysterious  recep- 
tacle, but  Clemence  had  always  put  her  off  with 
evasive  air: 

"  Ca,  c'est  des  affaires  h  moi  .  .  .  jpa  n'interesse 
pas  mademoiselle."  And  she  had  refused  to  gratify 
the  curiosity  of  the  girl  any  further. 

The  bag  had  been  made  by  Clemence  herself  in  her 
spare  hours,  in  view  of  her  London  trip.  It  was  of 
coarse  unbleached  linen  canvas  made  in  the  shape  of 
an  elongated  sausage  slit  along  the  top,  the  aper- 
ture being  bound  round  with  scarlet  braid  and  afford- 
ing a  view  of  a  scarlet  twill  lining.  The  side  seams 
were  also  bound  round  with  the  red  braid  and  the  two 
handles  made  of  strong  thick  twine  were  covered  with 
twill  like  the  lining.  There  were  Clemence's  initials, 
"  C.  S."  worked  in  cross-stitching  in  scarlet  cotton  on 
the  front  of  the  bag.  Into  this  trusty  repository  Clem- 
ence had  amassed  all  her  treasures,  besides  the  lusty 
meal  she  had  prepared  for  the  journey,  there  were 
several  toilet  articles,  including  a  small  mirror  and  a 
bottle  of  Eau  de  Melisse  in  view  of  the  possible 
horrors  of  sea-sickness.  There  were  three  or  four 
large,  thick  linen  handkerchiefs,  embroidered  also  in 
red  cotton  cross-stitching  "  C.  S."  and  there  was  a 
small  livre  de  Messe,  with  an  image  de  Saintete  serv- 
ing as  a  book-mark  at  the  page  upon  which  the  prayers 


THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE    279 

for  tHe  dying  were  set.  For  Clemence  as  she  stepped 
upon  the  steamboat  that  would  carry  her  to  England, 
was  resolved  to  be  ready  to  meet  even  death  itself  if 
necessary — stoically  and  like  a  good  Catholic.  The 
entire  bottom  of  the  bag  was  lined  with  half-pound 
packets  of  Menier's  chocolate. 

The  long  railway  journey,  not  to  mention  the  sea- 
passage,  constituted  in  Clemence's  mind  a  very  big 
undertaking,  which  necessitated  a  great  deal  of  moral 
and  material  sustainment  that  could  only  be  obtained  in 
her  opinion  from  a  large  and  hearty  meal.  Three  hard- 
boiled  eggs  seasoned  with  some  salt  from  a  small  pa- 
per cornucopia  and  accompanied  by  a  pound  of  crisp, 
golden-crusted  bread,  formed  a  substantial  ground- 
work as  an  hors  d'oeuvre.  A  thick  piece  of  cold 
beefsteak  was  next  consumed,  and  Clemence,  having 
brought  a  small  kitchen  plate  of  white  china  with  her, 
was  able  to  cut  it  up  into  large  square  chunks  which 
she  washed  down  at  intervals  with  a  litre  of  strong 
red  wine.  Next  came  a  fine  slice  of  gruyere  cheese,  fol- 
lowed by  a  small  phial  of  excellent  black  coffee,  well- 
sweetened,  which  she  had  wrapped  in  a  flannel  to  keep 
warm.  To  Clemence  as  to  all  French  servants,  her 
food  was  the  item  of  greatest  importance  in  her  ex- 
istence. She  could  be  most  devoted  to  her  mistress 
at  times,  and  in  illness  specially  she  was  a  veritable 
treasure;  but  to  no  creature  on  earth,  and  to  no 
exterior  or  interior  consideration  would  Clem- 
ence have  sacrificed  the  plenitude  of  her  repast. 
If  she  was  forced  to  live  "  ches  les  autres,"  that  was 
to  be  regretted  indeed,  but  was  not  that  precisely  one 


28o    THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

of  the  reasons  why  she  should  be  well  fed  ?  she  asked. 
iWas  not  that  her  chief  compensation,  since  she  was 
forced  to  live  in  the  "  houses  of  others  ?  "  And  accord- 
ing to  Clemence  no  one  was  well  fed  who  did  not 
consume  a  pound  of  bread,  and  a  bottle  of  red  wine 
at  each  meal  besides  other  items,  both  at  midday  and 
at  seven  o'clock  in  the  evening,  like  all  good  Chris- 
tians! When  Franqoise  had  told  Clemence  that  in 
England,  with  Mrs.  Brent's  servants,  she  would  prob- 
ably enjoy  a  more  solid  breakfast  than  she  was 
accustomed  to  in  France,  but  that  she  would  have  no 
evening  dinner  of  meat,  she  was  aghast. 

"  Comment!  On  est  des  sauvages  en  'Angleterre, 
dors?'* 

"Not  exactly,"  replied  Frangoise  laughing.  "But 
Mrs.  Brent  tells  me  that  English  people  do  not  give 
their  servants  late  dinner." 

After  having  declared  that  she  hated  England  and 
all  things  English,  and  that  nothing  would  induce  her 
to  put  her  foot  upon  English  soil,  Clemence  had  never- 
theless been  influenced  by  Jacqueline's  description  of 
English  life,  and  now  was  really  keen  to  go  to  Eng- 
land. But  she  could  not  reconcile  herself  to  the  idea 
of  an  English  menu. 

*'  Des  sauvages,  quoi!" 

Nothing  else  could  be  got  from  her  but  that  appre- 
ciation of  English  customs.  But  at  the  bottom  of 
her  uncouth  canvas  bag  she  had  concealed  not  only 
several  pounds  of  Menier's  chocolate,  but  also  two 
very  long  rolls  of  saucisson  de  Lyon,  as  well  as  three 
boxes  of  sardines.    "  Comme  ga,  I  shall  lack  nothing 


THE    EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    281 

in  the  land  of  the  sauvages,  if  they  try  to  make  me 
die  of  hunger,"  she  had  muttered  to  herself  as  she 
packed  it  carefully,  wrapping  parchment  paper  around 
the  saucisson  to  keep  it  fresh.  And  though  even  Fran- 
goise  herself,  puzzled  by  the  appearance  of  Clemence's 
wonderful  travelling  kit,  made  endeavours  at  repeated 
intervals  to  discover  what  she  might  be  hiding,  Clem- 
ence  always  refused  to  tell. 

"C'est  des  affaires  d,  mot,"  she  replied  invariably, 
putting  her  hand  over  the  opening  of  the  bag  and 
drawing  it  close  to  her,  as  though  she  feared  that  her 
patronne  would  inspect  its  contents  by  force. 

On  the  boat  Frangoise  in  terror  of  sea-sickness,  went 
down  into  the  ladies'  cabin  with  Clemence,  and  stretch- 
ing herself  out  on  the  comfortable  thintz-covered 
berth,  resigned  herself  to  her  fate,  with  a  bottle  of 
smelling  salts  in  one  hand  and  a  handkerchief  satu- 
rated with  eau  de  Cologne  in  the  other.  Jacqueline, 
intending  to  remain  on  deck  during  the  short  passage, 
went  down  to  settle  her  mother  and  the  old  servant 
comfortably,  and  then  tying  a  wide  motor  veil  over 
her  close  grey  toque  went  up  on  board.  Pacing  the 
deck  she  met  two  young  English  girls  who  were  doing 
likewise.  As  Jacqueline  went  to  lean  up  against  the 
side  of  the  deck  railing  the  two  girls  followed  her,  and 
the  younger  one  smilingly  addressed  her. 

"Are  you  a  good  sailor?"  she  asked. 

"  Yes,  I  think  so,"  said  Jacqueline  bravely.  "  This 
is  the  first  time  I've  crossed,  but  I  don't  mind  the 
shaking.  It's  more  invigorating  than  otherwise,"  she 
added  as  the  turbine  trembled  a  little. 


2^2    THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

"  We  are  just  returning  from  our  first  trip  to  Paris," 
volunteered  the  young  English  girl. 

"  Oh ! "  said  Jacqueline,  interested  at  once.  "  /  am 
just  about  to  pay  my  first  visit  to  London ! " 

"  I  wonder  how  you  will  like  London  after  Paris?  " 
said  the  young  girl  again.  "You  will  find  it  very 
diflferent  indeed." 

"How  did  you  like  Paris?"  inquired  Jacqueline. 

"Like  Paris!  We  adored  it,"  said  the  girl,  "but 
we  were  so  sorry  not  to  be  able  to  meet  any  French' 
people — inhabitants  of  Paris  I  mean.  We  stayed  in  a 
hotel  in  the  rue  Caumartin  and  were  all  the  time 
among  English  people." 

"  Parisians  do  not  live  at  hotels,  and  of  course  you 
would  never  meet  them  there,"  said  Jacqueline.  "  Did 
you  not  have  any  letters  of  introduction  when  you 
arrived?  The  only  way  to  meet  French  people,  and 
to  see  them  as  they  are,  is  to  be  received  into  their 
own  homes." 

"  Is  it  difficult  for  English  people  to  know  the  French 
in  their  intimate  life?"  asked  the  elder  of  the  two 
g^rls,  a  young  woman  of  about  twenty-six. 

"Yes,"  said  Jacqueline,  who  having  met  English' 
hospitality  at  the  house  of  the  Brents  knew  the  differ- 
ence between  the  two  nations  in  family  customs. 
"  You  see  the  home  in  France  is  far  more  closed  to 
strangers  than  the  English  home.  French  people  do 
not  admit  strangers  into  their  intimacy  as  quickly  or 
as  easily  as  the  English  do." 

"I  am  glad  that  Enghsh  hospitality  is  what  it  is," 


THE    EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    283 

said  the  elder  girl  proudly.  "But  tell  me  why  the 
French  family  is  so  closed?" 

"Oh,  for  a  multitude  of  reasons.  But  first  of  all 
because  of  the  manner  in  which  young  girls  and  young 
men  are  brought  up.  The  average  French  mother 
does  not  allow  her  daughter  to  meet  any  young  men 
before  her  own  marriage,  and  would  fight  shy  of  ad- 
mitting English  girls  into  the  intimacy  of  her  own 
daughters  because  she  would  be  afraid  of  their  learn- 
ing too  much  independence  from  the  young  woman  so 
liberally  trained." 

And  then  Jacqueline  told  tHem  of  her  friendship 
with  Nelly  Brent  and  explained  how  her  friend's  in- 
dependence had  influenced  her  own. 

"Very  few  French  girls  have  been  brought  up  as 
freely  as  I  have  been,"  she  told  the  two  sisters.  "  Most 
mothers  disapprove  of  the  liberty  which  my  mother 
has  always  given  me.  What  we  call  Veducation 
a  I'anglaise  is  only  just  beginning  to  be  admitted  in 
French  society.  It  is  coming  though.  Great  strides 
have  been  made  already  and  many  others  will  follow." 

The  conversation  thus  engaged  proceeded  almost 
during  the  whole  of  the  crossing.  As  the  outlines  of 
the  English  coast  were  becoming  visible  in  the  dis- 
tance, the  elder  girl  turned  to  Jacqueline  and  asked 
simply : 

"  Where  are  you  going  to  stop  in  London  ?  " 

"  At  a  place  called  Kensington." 

"  Oh !  we  live  not  far  from  there ! "  exclaimed  the 
younger  of  the  two  girls,  whom  Jacqueline  had  heard 


284    THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

addressed  as  Janet.  "  We  live  at  Netting  Hill,  close 
by." 

"  Heel  Nottingue,"  repeated  Jacqueline  slowly,  with 
her  pretty  accent.  "I  will  try  to  remember  that 
name." 

The  older  girl  addressed  Jacqueline  awkwardly. 

"I  wonder,"  she  said  with  a  blush,  "I  wonder  if 
you  would  come  and  see  us  while  you  are  in  London  ?  " 

Jacqueline  was  not  astonished  at  the  sudden  invita- 
tion from  the  two  strangers.  She  understood  that 
both  the  girls  were  genuinely  interested  in  her. 

"  I  should  be  very  pleased,"  she  said,  "  you  are  very 
kind.  My  name  is  Jacqueline  Reville,  and  I  am  going 
to  stay  with  my  friend,  Mrs.  Brent." 

"  Oh !  the  Brents  ?  Do  you  know  them  ?  "  Janet 
broke  in  impetuously  with  a  smile  on  her  face.  "  I 
used  to  go  to  school  with  Nelly  Brent.  Yes.  And 
now  I  remember,  she  lives  at  Kensington." 

"I've  known  them  a  long  time.  I  met  Nelly  at 
the  Sorbonne,  where  we  were  both  studying.  She 
lived  in  Paris  three  years  with  her  aunt.  We  became 
great  friends  and  I  used  to  speak  English  with  her 
nearly  always." 

"And  what  has  become  of  her  brother,  Oliver?  I've 
heard  that  he's  a  great  artist.  The  papers  announced 
that  his  picture  at  this  year's  Academy  was  a  great 
success." 

Jacqueline  blushed  to  the  roots  of  her  hair. 

"  Mr.  Brent  lives  in  Paris.  He  is  an  artist  of  some 
repute  there.     His  Academy  picture  is  my  portrait," 


THE    EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    285 

she  said  with  some  embarrassment.  "You  will  be 
sure  to  recognize  it." 

And  anxious  to  avoid  any  further  reference  to 
Oliver  she  turned  to  the  elder  girl  again. 

"  Won't  you  tell  me  your  name  ?  " 

"  Oh,  certainly !  I  am  Elsie  Thornton,  and  this  is 
my  sister  Janet  Thornton.  We  were  both  educated 
at  a  high  school  and  later  on  in  Germany  and 
Brussels.  We  live  with  our  father  and  mother.  We've 
got  a  brother  who  is  in  business  in  the  city.     .      .      . " 

"You'll  discover  after  you  have  been  in  England 
some  time  that  most  young  Englishmen  of  our  class 
are  *  something  in  the  city,*  when  they  don't  go  out 
to  the  Colonies,"  interrupted  Janet  laughing. 

"  I  think  that's  about  all  there  is  to  know  about  us," 
pursued  Elsie,  undisturbed  by  her  sister's  remark. 
"  Here's  our  address,  on  one  of  mother's  cards,"  and 
she  held  out  a  card  with  an  address  written  upon  it 
in  ink. 

"Be  sure  you  come  to  see  us,  and  let  us  know  if 
there  is  anything  we  can  do  for  you  in  London.  We 
shall  be  delighted  to  be  of  use  to  you." 

Jacqueline  thanked  them  warmly,  and  as  the  coast 
of  England  was  now  in  sight,  she  went  down  to  her 
mother  in  the  cabin  below. 

"Well,  and  how's  the  sea  been  treating  you, 
mother?"  she  inquired  gently,  as  she  bent  over  the 
prostrate  lady. 

Frangoise  replied  in  a  low  voice. 

"  I  feel  that  so  long  as  I  do  not  budge  an  inch,  I 


286    THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

shall  not  be  ill.    But  please  don't  make  me  get  up  till 
we  are  in  the  harbour,  dearest." 

"All  right,  mother.  We've  really  had  a  beautiful 
passage,"  and  then  spying  Clemence  stretched  full- 
length  and  face  downwards  in  a  berth  nearby  groan- 
ing, and  bending  over  a  receptacle  which  she  tried  in 
vain  to  hide  from  Jacqueline's  alert  gaze : 

"Eh  hien,  ma  bonne  Clemence!  And  how  are  you 
faring?  "  She  placed  her  cool  hand  with  a  comforting 
gesture  on  the  forehead  of  the  good  woman  as  she 
spoke. 

"Ah,  mademoiselle!  Quels  sauvages  que  ces  ^An- 
glais d' avoir  invents  une  mer  pareille!" 

"But  it  is  not  the  fault  of  the  English  if  the  sea 
is  a  little  rough  and  you've  been  sick,  Clemence !  You 
really  ought  not  to  make  them  responsible  for  it," 
said  Jacqueline  smiling. 

"  Vraif    C'est  pas  leur  fautef" 

"I  assure  you  it  isn't,"  replied  Jacqueline,  now 
laughing  outright.  "Allans,  cheer  up,  Clemence! 
We've  just  got  into  the  harbour.  The  rolling  has 
ceased.  Be  your  own  brave  self  again,  and  help  me 
to  look  after  maman." 

A  galooned  official  now  came  around  to  inspect  all 
the  hand-baggage  on  board.  Clemence,  ill  though  she 
was,  pulled  herself  together  at  the  sight  of  him  and 
rose  from  her  recumbent  position  just  in  time  to 
snatch  her  beloved  bag  from  his  grasp. 

"  Qu'est  ce  qu'il  veut,  cet  imbecile f  "  she  inquired 
of  Jacqueline.  "  Mon  Dieu!  Mon  Dieu!"  she  mur- 
mured to  herself,  as  the  inspector  put  out  his  hand  to 


THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE    287 

take  the  bag.  She  was  most  anxious  that  Jacqueline 
should  not  know  of  her  store  of  chocolate,  which  ac- 
cording to  her  belief  was  to  save  her  from  complete 
starvation  in  the  land  of  the  sauvages.  But  Jacqueline 
guessed  what  she  had  there  and  took  a  keen  delight 
in  teasing  the  good  woman. 

"You  must  show  it,  you  know,  Clemence.  And  I 
suppose  you  understand  that  you  will  be  immediately 
marched  off  to  the  nearest  English  prison  if  they  find 
any  such  things  as  French  chocolate  or  saucisson  or 
even  gruyere  cheese  in  your  possession.  The  king  of 
England  does  not  allow  such  things  to  enter  his  do- 
minions,*" And  Jacqueline  put  on  a  very  serious 
expression. 

Clemence  turned  more  livid  than  even  seasickness 
could  make  her. 

"  C'est-il  vraif  Mademoiselle,  c'est-il  vraif"  she 
gasped  in  terror. 

"Yes,  it's  quite  true,  isn't  it?"  said  JacqueHne, 
turning  to  the  Customs  House  officer  for  reference. 

"Yes,"  answered  that  official  smiling,  and  appre- 
ciating the  joke.  But  seeing  Clemence's  look  of  real 
terror,  he  added  consolingly : 

"  But  we'll  let  the  lady  off  this  time  if  she  has  any 
of  these  articles  in  her  possession,  as  it  is  her  first 
visit  to  England." 

He  made  a  polite  bow  to  Clemence  and  smiled  at 
Jacqueline  as  he  passed  on  to  examine  another  bag. 

" Dieu  soit  lone!''  whispered  Clemence  to  Jacque- 
line as  she  watched  his  retreating  form.  "//  est  tout 
de  meme  amiable,  cet  imbecile!    She  was  so  relieved 


288    THE  EDUCATION  OE  JACQUELINE 

at  having  spared  her  bag  from  the  man's  investigation 
that  she  confessed  her  provision  of  edibles  at  once. 
"  To  tell  you  the  truth,  mademoiselle,  I  am  so  afraid 
of  dying  of  hunger  in  the  house  of  Madame  Brent, 
among  those  sauvages  of  English  servants,  that  I  have 
brought  a  few  tablets  of  chocolate  from  Paris  with 
me  to  appease  my  hunger  if  necessary." 

"A  few  tablets!"  laughed  Jacqueline,  lifting  the 
bag  and  weighing  it  on  her  strong  arm.  "A  few 
tablets,  indeed!  A  fine  consignment,  Clemence,  to 
judge  by  the  weight  of  your  bag!  You  monster, 
Clemence!  I  should  say  there  is  at  least  a  thousand 
francs  duty  on  this.  What  would  King  Edward  say 
if  he  only  knew  it!" 

"  Ah,  but  he  doesn't  know  it ! "  cried  Clemence 
victoriously,  as  if  she  had  scored  a  triumph  over  His 
Majesty  of  England.  Jacqueline's  shoulders  shook 
with  silent  mirth. 

"  Quel  pays  de  sauvages,  tout  de  meme!"  muttered 
the  old  servant  again  to  herself  as  she  tied  an  echarpe 
that  Jacqueline  had  given  her  firmly  over  her  black 
hat  and  hastened  to  help  her  mistress  to  rise. 

But  Clemence's  troubles  among  the  "sauvages"  had 
only  just  begun.  For  the  next  few  weeks  she  had  but 
one  word  ever  upon  her  lips,  with  which  she  freely 
addressed  all  porters,  tradespeople,  waiters  and  cab- 
men indiscriminately,  and  that  was  the  word  ''im- 
becile/* She  was  delighted  to  learn  from  Jacqueline 
that  such  a  word  was  not  often  used  in  English  and 
was  not  understood  when  uttered  by  a  foreigner.    So 


THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE    289 

she  pronounced  it  upon  every  conceivable  occasion, 
and  it  greatly  eased  her  mind  when  she  did. 

After  they  had  landed  in  England,  Jacqueline  was 
obliged  to  take  the  entire  direction  of  the  small  party 
of  French  travellers  in  hand,  neither  Frangoise  nor 
Clemence  being  able  to  speak  a  single  word  of  Eng- 
lish. 

At  Dover  Frangoise  wanted  a  tea-basket,  and 
Jacqueline  was  obliged  for  the  first  time  to  speak  in 
English,  to  pay  the  waiter  and  to  count  the  change 
of  an  English  sovereign  with  which  she  had  paid  for 
thle  tea.  She  found  shillings  and  pence  most  be- 
wildering, and  Clemence,  in  a  perpetual  state  of  ill- 
temper  with  everything  in  England,  declared  that 
surely  the  "  vilains  sauvages"  had  cheated  mademoi- 
selle. Jacqueline's  English,  acquired  first  in  Paris 
from  the  academical  Pomm  and  then  at  the  Lycee, 
and  finally  broadened  out  afterwards  by  her  conversa- 
tions with  the  most  modern  of  English  maidens  in 
the  person  of  Nelly  Brent,  was  amusing  to  say  the 
least.  It  was  a  curious  composition  of  very  literary 
expressions  culled  from  Shakespeare  and  the  older 
poets,  and  very  up-to-date  modern  forms  of  English 
school  slang,  carefully  inoculated  by  Nelly,  whose 
great  delight  was  to  hear  Jacqueline  use  words  she 
did  not  understand  in  the  least. 

At  Victoria  they  found  Nelly  and  Mrs.  Brent  on  the 
platform  waiting  for  them. 

"  Jacqueline !  '*  cried  Nelly  with  delight  as  soon  as 
she  caught  sight  of  Jacqueline's  tall,  slim  figure  in 


y 


290    THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

the  carriage  as  she  reached  upwards  for  the  umbrellas 
in  the  rack. 

"  Voild  Nelly ! "  cried  Jacqueline  to  her  mother  in 
her  turn.  And  as  she  flew  into  her  friend's  arms  on 
the  platform  she  greatly  shocked  an  old  gentleman 
who  had  travelled  up  in  the  same  carriage  with  them 
from  Dover,  and  had  been  greatly  admiring  the 
young  French  girl's  good  manners  on  the  way,  by 
exclaiming : 

"  Here  we  are,  dear  old  chappie !  " 

After  some  delay  at  the  Customs,  which  once  again 
forced  Clemence  into  injurious  language  concerning 
savages  and  imbeciles,  their  luggage  was  put  on 
to  a  barrow  and  taken  to  the  District  Railway  by  a 
porter,  en  route  for  Kensington.  As  they  left  the 
station  and  passed  into  the  open  air,  Frangoise  and 
Jacqueline  were  both  immediately  struck  with  the 
sight  of  the  busy  streets  beyond  and  would  willingly 
have  sauntered  out  for  a  walk  of  inspection  there  and 
then.  But  Nelly  and  Mrs.  Brent  hurried  them  along 
with  Clemence  in  tow  already  freely  using  abusive 
language  to  those  people  in  the  street  who  pushed  up 
against  her  and  threatened  to  knock  her  bag  with  its 
supposed  fraudulent  freight  of  chocolate  and  saucisson 
out  of  her  hand. 

Soon  they  found  themselves  in  a  train  on  the  Dis- 
trict Railway  bound  for  Kensington.  Jacqueline 
ensconced  herself  at  once  in  a  corner  of  the  carriage 
and  opened  her  eyes  wide  as  she  passed  all  the  Dis- 
trict Railway  stations — ^Victoria,  Sloane  Square  and 
Gloucester  Road  in  succession. 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    291 

"  Well,  Jacqueline ! "  said  Nelly,  sitting  close  beside 
her  and  amused  to  see  her  friend  so  interested  in  the 
waiting  crowds  assembled  upon  the  platforms, 
"  Well,  what  is  your  first  impression  of  England  and 
the  English?" 

"  Most  of  your  people  appear  to  me  to  be  so  sad — 
at  least  to-day  they  do,"  said  Jacqueline,  "and  I 
don't  suppose  they  have  put  on  that  expression  only 
for  us,  so  I  surmise  that  it  is  their  usual  one.  But 
are  they  always  like  that?  And  is  your  city  always 
as  gloomy  and  dull  ?    What  a  thick  atmosphere !  " 

"  Do  you  think  so  ? "  said  Nelly  reflectively. 
"Yes;  I  suppose  the  people  must  strike  you  as  dull 
as  their  own  climate,  after  the  gay  Parisian  crowd." 

"  They  have  no  expressions  at  all  upon  their  faces," 
said  Jacqueline.  "  They  look  as  if  life  held  no  hope 
at  all  for  them.  At  least  that's  how  they  impress 
me  at  first  sight.  How  do  you  account  for  that, 
Nelly?" 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Nelly,  leaving  her  seat  and 
taking  the  empty  place  opposite  to  Jacqueline  by  the 
side  of  the  window.  "Unless  it's  the  effect  of  the 
climate,  which  is  most  depressing  here  in  the  winter 
time.     ..." 

"  But  now  it  is  spring,"  said  Jacqueline  laughing. 

"Yes.  But  they  remember  the  winter,  you  see!" 
said  Nelly,  joining  in  her  friend's  infectious  laughter. 

"  I  think,  Nelly,"  said  Jacqueline  with  mock  grav- 
ity, "I  think— indeed  I  am  afraid— that  you  are 
growing  into  a  philosopher." 

"Gracious  me!"  put  in  good  Mrs.   Brent  here. 


2g2    THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

shaking  the  yellow  cowslips  on  hier  bonnet  threaten- 
ingly at  Jacqueline  as  she  spoke.  "Gracious  me! 
You've  hardly  yet  set  your  foot  upon  English  soil 
and  you  are  already  calling  Nelly  bad  names!" 

At  which  remark  the  girls  gave  way  to  an  up- 
roarious fit  of  laughter,  in  which  the  "mothers'* 
joined. 

"What  fun  we  are  going  to  have  here  together," 
said  Mrs.  Brent,  when  she  had  regained  some  com- 
posure. "Why,  it  will  be  like  our  dear  Peupliers 
days  all  over  again." 

At  the  mention  of  Les  Peupliers,  Frangoise,  looking 
at  her  daughter,  noted  that  not  the  slightest  quiver- 
ing moved  her  features.  She  understood  that  Jacque- 
line's sad  memories  were  indeed  fading  into  total  ob- 
livion, and  her  heart  was  full  of  joy. 

When  the  merry  party  reached  Kensington,  their 
luggage  was  again  hoisted  on  to  a  barrow  and 
wheeled  away  by  a  railroad  porter,  while  Mrs.  Brent 
and  Nelly  conducted  their  friends  on  foot  to  Rose 
Lodge,  which  was  only  a  few  yards  away. 

As  soon  as  they  got  into  the  dimly-lighted,  warm- 
aired  hall,  their  impression  of  England  was  trans- 
formed at  once.  If  outside  in  the  streets  many 
things  had  struck  them  as  ugly,  unfinished,  here  at 
least  it  seemed  that  luxury,  comfort  and  good  taste 
were  combined  to  charm  and  to  attract  thejncoming 
stranger. 

"  Welcome  to  England,  and  to  Rose  Lodge ! "  cried 
Mrs.  Brent  as  they  entered.  And  she  kissed  Fran- 
^oise  again  heartily  and  folded  Jacqueline  once  more 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    293 

into  the  depths  of  her  embrace,  her  wide,  old-fash- 
ioned black  cloth  cape  flapping  backwards  and  for- 
wards and  keeping  company  with  the  long  loose 
strings  of  her  small,  high-perched  bonnet.  "Wel- 
come, dear  friends;  we  are  so  happy  to  have  you  in 
cur  EngHsh  home  at  last ! " 

"So  glad  to  have  you  here,  old  girl!"  said  Nelly 
to  Jacqueline,  shaking  her  by  the  hand. 

To  the  right  of  the  hall  a  flight  of  stairs  carpeted 
with  a  warm  carpeting  of  pale-blue  felt  covered  with 
white  linen  druggeting  in  the  centre,  led  up  to  the 
bedrooms..  Here  Frangoise  and  Jacqueline  were 
immediately  installed  in  two  small,  charming  rooms 
side  by  side,  each  provided  with  two  wide  bay-shaped 
windows  that  gave  a  fine  view  of  the  smooth  lawn 
and  of  the  garden  beyond.  This  contained  beds  of 
many  old-fashioned  flowers  mingling  in  happy  har- 
mony with  currant  bushes  and  strawberry  plants. 
Fine  trees  surrounded  it  on  all  sides,  closing  it  in 
from  the  view  of  other  old  gardens  beyond,  which 
formed  the  grounds  of  an  old  Catholic  Convent 
where  peaceful  nuns  chanted  hymns  as  they  walked 
along  the  gravel  paths,  and  the  tinkling  bell  of  their 
chapel  called  them  into  their  evening  meal. 

Rose  Lodge  stood  in  its  own  grounds.  It  was  an 
old-fashioned  house,  built  in  the  early  years  of  the 
nineteenth  century  when  the  fine  architectural  lines 
of  the  later  eighteenth  century  still  haunted  the 
dreams  of  English  architects.  The  broad  windows 
of  the  dining-  and  drawing-rooms  on  the  ground  floor 
were  slightly  bow-shaped  and  gave  a  generous  view 


294    THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

of  tHe  fine  velvety  lawn,  springy  to  the  touch  of  the 
foot,  as  only  an  old  English  lawn  can  be.  The  gar- 
den delighted  Frangoise  and  Jacqueline  specially,  and 
appeared  to  them  as  a  fine  example  of  the  triumphant 
Anglo-Saxon  spirit  that  successfully  coerces  even  re- 
bellious Nature  herself;  for  it  is  precisely  in  England, 
where  the  climate  is  so  unsympathetic  to  outdoor  en- 
joyments, that  foreigners  do  not  expect  to  find  de- 
lightful and  entrancing  pleasaunces. 

The  house  itself  also  was  characteristically  sug- 
gestive of  the  better  class  of  English  bourgeois  with 
its  nurnerous  small  bedrooms  so  necessary  to  the  love 
of  individual  privacy  of  each  member  of  a  large 
family.  On  the  ground  floor  was  a  spacious  drawing- 
room,  out  of  which  one  could  pass  info  a  small  con- 
servatory beyond,  where  a  vine,  the  pride  of  Mrs. 
Brent's  heart,  when  laboriously  tended  yielded 
two  or  three  bunches  of  grapes  each  year.  The  din- 
ing-room, next  to  the  drawing-room,  was  a  wide,  low- 
ceilinged  room,  with  a  bow-window,  and  was  fur- 
nished with  old  Chippendale  furniture.  On  the  left 
of  the  hall  was  a  small  library,  which  formerly  had 
been  the  sanctum  of  the  late  Mr.  John  Brent  when  he 
retired  from  the  company  of  his  gushing  spouse,  to 
smoke  a  peaceful  and  solitary  pipe  alone. 

Two  white-capped,  white-aproned,  black-gowned 
female  servants  formed  the  whole  of  Mrs.  Brent's 
retinue.  To  these,  eyeing  them  with  deep  suspicion, 
Clemence  was  introduced  with  due  formality,  and  by 
them,  her  bag  still  grasped  in  her  right  hand,  she  was 
led  downstairs  to  the  region  of  the  kitchen.     They 


THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE    295 

immediately  offered  her  the  national  solace  of  a  cup 
of  tea.  But  it  was  brewed  so  strong  that  Clemence, 
with  more  celerity  than  politeness  put  it  back  on  the 
kitchen  table  by  the  side  of  a  plate  of  bread  and  butter 
which  had  accompanied  it,  murmuring  to  herself  "  sale 
medecine!" 

However,  as  soon  as  the  cook's  back  was  turned 
and  the  house-parlour  maid  began  to  lay  the  cloth  for 
the  dinner  upstairs,  Clemence,  turning  to  the  faithful 
bag  which  had  never  left  her  side  a  single  moment 
since  her  departure  from  Paris,  thrust  a  hasty  but 
deft  hand  into  its  open  aperture,  and  extracting  from 
its  depths  a  tablet  of  chocolate  began  to  munch  it 
with  evident  relish,  alternating  with  large  bites  out 
of  a  slice  of  bread  and  butter. 

The  next  morning  Clemence,  with  tired  eyes  and  a 
rueful  countenance,  brought  Madame  Reville's 
breakfast  to  her  on  a  tray. 

"Eh  hien,  Clemence"  she  asked,  "Comment  avez- 
vous  dormi?" 

"Ah!"  sighed  Clemence,  rubbing  her  shins  rue- 
fully, "ces  miserables!  Surely  the  mattress  of  my 
bed  must  have  been  stuffed  with  peach-stones,  for  I 
am  black  and  blue  all  over  me  this  morning!" 

For  another  national  prejudice  which  Clemence 
shared  with  most  of  her  class  was  her  great  predi- 
lection for  soft  bedding.  Evidently  she  had  found 
the  flat  English  mattress  so  hard  that  she  could  not 
sleep  all  night  long. 

"  You'll  get  used  to  it  soon,  Clemence,"  said  Fran- 
iQoise,  trying  to  comfort  and  persuade  her  at  the  same 


296    THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE 

time.  "To-night  your  bed  will  seem  softer  to  you. 
and  the  next  night  softer  still,  and  then  after  that 
you  won't  notice  any  difference  at  all  between  the 
bed  upstairs  and  your  own  at  home." 

"  Ah!  que  si,  madame! "  insisted  Clemence.  "  Cest 
pas  des  gens  possibles,  les  Anglais,  que  je  vous  disl 
If  I  can't  get  any  sleep  to-night,  then  I  return  to  Paris 
to-morrow.  I  warn  madame!"  And  with  that 
threat  Clemence  bounced  out  of  the  room. 

"  I  think  I'll  mix  a  sleeping  powder  with  her  choc- 
olate if  she  still  persists  in  getting  no  sleep  to-night," 
said  Jacqueline,  who  had  entered  the  room  during 
this  conversation.  "  We  shall  have  her  deserting  us 
the  next  day,  to  return  to  a  more  civilized  land,  if 
something  is  not  done  to  appease  her ! " 

"Well,  if  she's  unhappy  here,  of  course  she  may 
go  home,"  said  Frangoise. 

"  Oh,  she'll  be  all  right  in  a  day  or  two,"  laughed 
Jacqueline. 


CHAPTER   XVII 

Now  began  for  Frangoise  and  Jacqueline  a  series  of 
outings  and  sightseeings  which  delighted  them 
greatly. 

This  being  their  first  visit  to  England  they  had 
much  to  see  and  to  interest  them.  They  were  taken 
to  the  National  Gallery  and  to  the  National  Portrait 
Gallery  the  day  after  their  arrival.  And  then  fol- 
lowed in  succession  all  the  sights  of  London,  begin- 
ning by  the  South  Kensington  Museum  and  ending 
up  with  the  Tower.  But  what  interested  them  even 
more — indeed  far  more — than  the  museums  and 
sights  of  London,  were  the  people  in  the  streets  and 
the  whole  life  of  the  country  as  it  revealed  itself  out- 
wardly to  their  fresh,  unimpaired  observation.  It 
seemed  almost  incredible  to  them  that  a  country  so 
near  to  them  could  yet  be  so  far  by  reason  of  its  cus- 
toms, traditions  and  mentality.  They  began  now  to 
see  England  through  English  eyes.  The  British  na^ 
tion  appeared  to  them  a  totally  different  thing  when 
viewed  from  the  inside  than  when  observed  from 
without.  Because  the  faults  of  the  English  are 
faults  of  manner,  rather  than  of  heart,  their  worst 
characteristics  appear  on  the  surface  and,  as  their  best 
are  not  at  once  apparent,  the  uninitiated  foreigner, 
therefore,  sees  them  first  at  a  disadvantage.  But  now 
all  the  narrower  or  more  superficial  prejudices  against 

297 


298    THE  EDUCATION  OE  JACQUELINE 

the  English,  which  Frangoise  and  Jacqueline  had  ac- 
quired against  their  will,  began  to  drop  away  from 
them  one  by  one.  What  they  had  once  termed  Eng- 
lish hypocrisy  they  now  understood  better,  realizing 
that  it  stood  for  a  great  good,  and  that  it  was  ow- 
ing to  it  that  women  and  girls  were  respected 
throughout  England  and  the  national  dignity  thus 
upheld.  What  once  they  had  considered  as  la 
morgue  Britannique  they  now  understood  to  be  but  a 
very  timid  reserve — the  reserve  of  a  shy  and  self-con- 
scious people  who  are  afraid  to  give  way  to  their  own 
emotions. 

Of  the  improbity  whicK  Napoleon  thrust  upon 
England  as  her  greatest  fault,  when  he  apostrophied 
her  as  perfide  Albion,  Madame  Reville  and  her 
daughter  found  not  a  trace  among  their  new  friends. 
On  the  contrary,  they  soon  discovered  that  English 
friends  were  true  and  loyal  to  the  core,  and  that  the 
excellent  libel  laws  of  England  did  much  to  suppress 
in  English  social  relations  the  habits  of  "potins" 
which  are  so  disturbing  to  friendly  intercourse  in 
France. 

By  mixing  freely  with  English  girls  and  young  men 
of  her  own  age,  Jacqueline,  taking  every  advantage  of 
the  wide  hospitality  that  is  shown  to  strangers  in 
England,  veered  round  entirely  away  from  her  old 
standard  of  opinions  gathered  abroad  concerning  the 
English,  which  are  as  generally  erroneous  as  are  the 
corresponding  opinions  of  the  majority  of  the  Eng- 
lish concerning  their  foreign  neighbours. 

As   soon   as   they  had   arrived   at    Rose    Lodge, 


THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE    299 

Jacqueline  had  told  Nelly  about  the  meeting  with  the 
Thornton  girls,  and  found  that  Nelly  remembered 
them  quite  well.  She  had  not  seen  them  since  she 
had  left  the  High  School,  but  declared  that  she  would 
be  delighted  to  see  them  again.  So  Jacqueline  wrote 
a  polite  little  note  to  Elsie  Thornton  asking  her  to 
come  to  tea  at  Rose  Lodge  with  her  sister. 

After  a  first  visit,  the  Thorntons  became  their  in- 
separable companions  on  all  their  sightseeing  expedi- 
tions. The  sisters  were  simple,  healthy  creatures, 
without  temperament  or  artistic  tastes,  but  they  pos- 
sessed sterling  common  sense  and  kindly  hearts,  and 
Jacqueline  found  their  insular  point  of  view  most 
enlightening  to  her  in  many  ways,  revealing  insights 
into  the  British  character  which  she  would  not  other- 
wise have  had  the  opportunity  of  judging,  at  least 
with  such  equity. 

Their  brother,  Robert  Thornton,  who  held  a  small 
post  in  a  large  business  house  in  the  city,  was  above 
all  a  fervent  cricketer,  golfer  and  footballer,  and 
he  devoted  every  possible  holiday  to  his  favourite 
games.  In  fact  the  days  upon  which  he  went  to  a 
match  were  to  him  the  most  important  days  of  the 
week.  He  was  far  more  interested  in  all  sports 
than  he  was  in  his  office  work,  which  he  performed 
merely  perfunctorily  and  as  a  simple  matter  of  neces- 
sity. He  was  a  typical  young  Englishman  of  his  na- 
tion and  class.  Stolid,  unobservant,  unintellectual 
and  uncultured,  but  sterlingly  loyal,  kindly  and  gen- 
erous. He  soon  too  became  an  habitue  at  Rose 
Lodge,  where  with  his  sisters  he  was  invited  to  play 


300    THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

tennis  with  Nelly  and  Jacqueline.  Both  his  sisters 
were  devoted  to  him,  and  looked  up  to  what  they  con- 
sidered to  be  his  superior  opinion  in  all  things,  based 
solely  upon  the  fact  that  he  was  a  man.  Of  real 
mental  value  he  had  none,  but  he  was  eminently 
trustworthy.  He  was  typically  British  in  his  love 
for  all  those  kinds  of  outdoor  games  at  which  he  was 
most  proficient,  and  he  was  also  devoted  to  animals. 
The  great  cricket  matches  at  Lord's  were  his  one 
great  passion ;  he  took  no  interest  in  politics,  literature 
or  the  drama.  He  discharged  his  duties  in  the  city 
punctiliously  to  the  best  of  his  ability,  and  as  con- 
scientiously as  he  could.  But,  nevertheless,  his  office- 
work  was  a  mere  function  which  made  no  real  de- 
mands upon  him.  Because  of  their  community  of 
interests,  Robert  Thornton  and  Nelly  Brent  quickly 
became  friends,  and  in  order  to  discuss  questions  of 
great  import  together  on  matters  of  cricket,  which 
was  their  common  passion,  they  often  left  the  others 
and  wandered  off  into  the  more  secluded  parts  of  the 
garden  together.  Soon  it  became  customary  for 
Robert  to  come  and  fetch  Nelly  on  half  holidays  to 
take  her  off  to  some  great  match  that  called  thou- 
sands of  spectators  to  Lord's  cricket  grounds.  In- 
deed so  congenial  did  the  two  young  people  appear 
to  be,  that  Mrs.  Brent  confided  one  day  to  Frangoise 
that  she  would  not  be  surprised  if  such  devotion  did 
not  "  end  in  a  match  that  certainly  would  not  be  cele- 
brated at  Lord's." 

To  Jacqueline,  Robert  Thornton  was  a  source  of 
great   interest.    To  her  critical  sense  he  appeared 


THE    EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    301 

as  a  fine  specimen  of  the  splendid  uncouth  barbarian 
— a  big,  raw-boned  fellow  provided  with  the  kind- 
liest of  hearts  and  the  smallest  of  brains.  His  fair, 
flushed  pink  face  with  his  almost  white  eyelashes  and 
eye-brows,  his  pale,  colourless  eyes,  his  silver-fair 
hair  brushed  down  straight  and  sleek  close  to  his 
rather  flat  skull,  all  combined  to  emphasise  his  resem- 
blance to  a  salmon.  By  observing  Robert,  Jacqueline 
learnt  to  understand  more  of  the  indomitable  British 
character  and  to  admire  it  more  than  she  had  ever 
thought  to  admire.  Robert  Thornton's  fine  moral 
courage,  although  curiously  mingled  with  the  most 
blunted  faculties  of  perception,  his  equitable  rectitude 
and  integrity,  even  though  often  it  accompanied  the 
most  crass  ignorance  of  facts,  made  of  him  an  excel- 
lent specimen  of  manhood.  She  contrasted  him  fa- 
vourably with  many  of  the  young  fortune  hunters  of 
her  own  country,  who,  though  they  might  excel  in 
the  art  of  making  wonderfully  poetical  compliments 
to  ladies,  were  mostly  incapable  of  sacrificing  a  single 
one  of  their  cherished  material  interests  to  any 
woman. 

Robert's  dogged  conviction  was  that  the  English 
could  never  be  beaten,  either  because  an  Englishman 
never  knew  when  he  was  worsted,  or  he  would  not 
acknowledge  it  if  he  were,  or  again,  because  in  the 
end  whatever  happened  the  Briton  always  came  out 
victorious.  And  these  opinions  of  Robert's  indicated 
the  true  British  spirit  which  in  itself  was  a  revelation 
to  Jacqueline's  French-trained  mind.  Though  hith- 
erto her  emotional  and  affective  qualities  could  only 


302    THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

be  aroused  by  her  intelleetual  admiration,  she  was 
now  forced,  nevertheless,  into  a  great  respect  for 
Robert  because  of  the  soundness  of  his  moral  char- 
acter. She  began  to  discover  that  there  was  some- 
thing more  to  be  sought  in  a  man  than  charm  or  even 
culture,  and  though  he  would  have  been  astonished 
to  have  learnt  it,  Robert  Thornton  helped  consider- 
ably to  draw  Jacqueline's  opinion  upon  men  in  gen- 
eral to  a  higher  plane.  Henceforth  she  greatly  val- 
ued such  ethical  qualities  as  were  revealed  to  her 
through  the  medium  of  this  very  commonplace  Brit- 
ish lad.  Unconsciously  he  had  offered  her  a  new 
point  of  view,  from  which  now  she  could  test  those 
moral  and  ethical  qualities  which  formerly  she  had 
been  inclined  to  underrate  in  her  admiration  for  in- 
tellectual supremacy. 

Robert  was  totally  unused  to  the  society  of  ladies, 
and  was  at  first  particularly  shy  with  Frangoise  and 
her  daughter.  He  declared  to  his  friend  Nelly  that 
"most  ladies  were  bad  enough,  but  French  ladies 
were  a  bit  too  much"  for  him!  Jacqueline's  exces- 
sive daintiness  appeared  to  him  as  "  fussy,"  and  as 
for  FrauQoise,  he  declared  that  he  was  always  afraid 
of  "  seeing  her  break  into  bits ! " 

"  But  you  are  the  kind  of  girl  for  me ! "  Robert 
had  added,  addressing  his  first  compliment  to  Nelly 
herself.  "What  you  don't  know  about  games  and 
pets  is  not  worth  knowing ! " 

After  this  declaration  the  camaraderie  between 
Nelly  and  Robert  grew  apace,  as  simple  and  as  unaf- 
fected as  the  camaraderie  of  two  boys.    No  emotional 


THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE    303 

thoughts  troubled  them,  no  intellectual  interests  ap- 
pealed to  them.  They  were  like  two  healthy,  young 
animals,  amused  with  games  as  a  young  puppy  is 
amused  with  running  after  a  ball.  They  became  in- 
separable companions  and  their  difference  of  sex, 
which  counted  for  so  little  in  both  of  them,  created  no 
barrier  between  them. 

During  their  stay  in  London,  Frangoise  was  de- 
lighted to  see  how  well  Jacqueline  was  taking  to  Eng- 
lish ways  and  customs,  behaving  exactly  as  a  young 
English  girl  of  her  age.  By  degrees  her  coquetry 
was  disappearing,  for  she  found  no  scope  for  its  de- 
velopment. She  seemed  now  to  the  vigilant  eyes  of 
her  mother  to  have  forgotten,  not  only  Jerome,  but 
also  her  resentment  against  Oliver,  and  probably  even 
Oliver  himself.  She  appeared  to  be  in  process  of 
reconstructing  her  own  soul  upon  a  newer,  simpler 
basis,  and  meanwhile  was  enjoying  her  stay  in  Eng- 
land to  the  utmost.  Almost  daily  she  went  out  shop- 
ping and  sightseeing  alone,  or  with  Nelly  and  the 
Thornton  girls,  sometimes  even  with  Robert  alone. 

One  evening  Robert  announced  that  he  had  two 
seats  for  a  play.  He  would  greatly  have  preferred 
asking  Nelly  to  accompany  him,  as  he  told  her 
himself,  but  Jacqueline  was  a  foreigner  and  a  visitor, 
so  he  decided  to  invite  her  to  go  with  him  instead. 
"In  France  a  young  man  would  never  think  of 
asking  a  young  girl  out  alone  to  the  theatre," 
said  Jacqueline  smilingly,  "but  as  I  am  able  to 
fly  in  the  face  of  all  French  convention  here,  I  shall 
be    only   too   pleased    to   accept    your  kind   offer." 


304    THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUEUNE 

And  she  went  off  gaily  with  Robert,  who  fetched 
her  at  Rose  Lodge  in  the  evening  at  half-past  seven 
after  a  somewhat  hurried  meal.  They  went  up 
by  the  District  Railway  from  Kensington  sta- 
tion to  Charing  Cross  and  then  walked  to  the 
theatre.  Jacqueline  amused  herself  by  comparing  the 
attitude  of  Robert  with  that  of  a  young  Frenchman 
of  his  years.  This  tall,  rather  shy  young  man  of 
twenty-seven,  in  great  contrast  to  the  young  French- 
men of  his  age,  was  awkward  with  women,  and  not 
being  interested  in  any  other  subject  than  that  of 
sport,  found  that  he  had  very  few  subjects  upon 
which  he  could  talk  to  Jacqueline.  But  Jacqueline 
took  the  initiative,  and  managed  to  draw  him  out  of 
his  shell,  and  to  get  him  to  talk  about  various  Eng- 
lish out-door  games,  comparing  them  with  some  of 
the  older  games  of  the  kind  known  in  France. 
Grateful  for  her  sympathy,  he  somewhat  expanded 
and  at  one  of  the  stations — leaning  out  of  the  win- 
dow— ^he  called  to  a  newsboy  to  bring  him  an  evening 
paper  to  show  her.  Greatly  to  Jacqueline's  satisfac- 
tion he  explained  to  her  the  meaning  of  the  posters 
of  the  various  evening  papers,  heralding  the  cricket 
scores  at  the  more  famous  sporting  centres.  To  her 
these  items  of  interest,  which  she  had  seen  every 
afternoon  in  the  streets  of  London  printed  in  large 
letters  on  wide  sheets  of  pink  paper  flapping  in  the 
wind  as  the  shrieking  news-vendors  rushed  along,  had 
been  far  more  difficult  than  Greek  to  her  understand- 
ing. Hitherto  she  had  not  realized  the  importance  of 
these  questions  in  the  eyes  of  a  nation  almost  exclu- 


THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE    305 

sively  interested  in  sport.  Robert,  paper  in  hand,  now 
expounded  to  her  in  detail  the  mysteries  of  the  sport- 
ing news  of  the  sheet  so  sacred  to  the  British  clerk. 
And  by  the  time  they  had  arrived  at  the  theatre,  Rob- 
ert told  himself  that  for  a  "beastly  foreigner,"  Jac- 
queline was  really  a  "  good  sort." 

At  the  theatre,  Jacqueline  was  amused  by  the  audi- 
ence in  the  stalls,  where  the  better  dressed  people  of 
the  theatre  sat  motionless  and  expressionless  waiting 
the  rise  of  the  curtain  with  forbearing  patience.  It 
seemed  to  her  that  they  were  imbued  with  a  terrible 
earnestness,  taking  their  pleasure  at  the  theatre  as  a 
thing  of  momentous  issue. 

"  What  a  serious  business  their  pleasure  apparently 
is  to  them,"  said  Jacqueline.  "  If  this  were  a  French 
theatre  all  the  people  would  be  chattering  like  mag- 
pies." 

"Would  they?"  said  Robert,  without  mucH  in- 
terest. 

He  was  neither  observant  nor  introspective,  and 
the  relative  characteristics  of  English  and  French 
audiences  did  not  appeal  to  him. 

The  play  was  of  the  kind  called  a  musical  comedy. 
Notwithstanding  her  knowledge  of  English,  Jacque- 
line followed  the  plot  of  the  story  with  great  diffi- 
culty. There  was  a  king  who  was  not  really  a  king, 
and  another  man — a  very  funny  person — who  was 
married  to  a  very  pompous  and  disagreeable  lady. 
The  facetious  gentleman  was  continually  being  offered 
the  post  of  king,  though  he  himself  was  always 
trying    to    avoid    the    responsibilities    of    kingship. 


3o6    THE  EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE 

Then  there  was  a  very  pretty  princess,  the  daughter 
of  the  funny  man.  She  loved  the  real  king,  who, 
for  some  reason  not  made  clear,  was  hiding.  It  was 
very  complicated  and  Jacqueline  had  to  give  up  try- 
ing to  understand  the  plot,  as  the  rest  of  the  audi- 
ence probably  had  to  do  also.  But  evidently  that  did 
not  prevent  them  from  being  interested  in  the  play, 
so  Jacqueline  followed  their  example  and  amused  her- 
self too  by  listening  to  the  rather  vapid  music  that 
was  a  sort  of  pot-pourri  of  various  well-known  popu- 
lar songs  mixed  with  reminiscences  of  other  operet- 
tas. Sometimes — and  always  when  she  least  expected 
him — the  funny  man  came  on  and  staggered  about 
the  stage  quite  meaninglessly,  but  amusingly  because 
of  his  very  absurdity,  banging  his  head  against  the 
cardboard  tree-trunks  of  the  mise-en-scene  in  his 
frenzied  fear  of  being  appointed  king.  Then  he 
went  off  and  a  chorus  of  short-skirted,  large-hatted 
village  girls  appeared  waving  bouquets  of  poppies 
and  wheat  ears,  though  for  no  apparent  reason.  Then 
they  sang  some  songs,  but  what  they  were  about  no 
one  even  tried  to  guess.  A  duet  sung  by  the  lovers 
together  then  followed  and,  as  soon  as  they  disap- 
peared, then  the  jocose  man  appeared  once  more.  It 
was  all  quite  ridiculous,  but  funny,  not  with  any  wit 
of  its  own  but  because  of  its  wild,  childish  extrava- 
gance. 

Jacqueline  laughed  often,  but  not  in  the  same  places 
nor  for  the  same  reasons  as  Robert,  who  kept  re- 
peating each  time  the  funny  man  went  off  the  stage : 

"Isn't  he  clever!     Isn't  he  clever!" 


THE  EDUCATION  OF   JACQUELINE    307 

And  though  his  cleverness  was  a  mere  trick  for 
buffoonery,  he  certainly  kept  the  house  in  fits  of 
laughter,  and  appeared  to  be  a  great  favourite. 

Between  the  acts  Jacqueline  was  amused  to  see 
that  the  solemnity  of  the  audience  was  at  once  re- 
sumed. These  good  people,  she  told  herself,  were 
evidently  here  to  have  quite  a  serious  evening  of 
fun.   .    .    . 

Robert  accompanied  Jacqueline  back  to  Rose  Lodge 
and  helped  her  to  unlock  the  door  with  the  latchkey 
with  which  Mrs.  Brent  had  entrusted  her  before  she 
had  left.  As  soon  as  she  had  got  inside  the  door, 
Robert  bade  her  good-night  and  set  forth  for  Netting 
Hill  on  foot. 


CHAPTER   XVIII 

When  Jacqueline  had  been  two  months  in  London, 
she  wrote  a  long  letter  to  Pomm,  with  whom  Fran- 
goise  had  regularly  corresponded  during  her  London 
visit,  but  who  complained  of  never  having  received  a 
single  letter  from  Jacqueline. 

Rose  Lodge^  Kensington,  London. 
My  dear  Pomm  : 

Maman  cherie  tells  me  that  you  wish  me  to  write 
you,  to  give  you  my  impressions  of  England  and  the 
English.  Well,  I  am  going  to  try  to  do  so.  So  far 
I  have  not  been  long  enough  in  England  to  be  capa- 
ble of  judging  English  people  adequately.  I  can  only 
give  you  my  impression  of  their  ways  and  customs, 
and  tell  you  how  they  strike  me  as  being  so  very  dif- 
ferent to  our  own  compatriots.  Yet  I  have  gained  so 
many  divers  and  even  conflicting  impressions  that 
although  I  have  the  greatest  desire  to  be  entirely 
just,  you  must  forgive  me  if  at  times  I  appear  to  be 
somewhat  obscure  in  my  meaning. 

To  begin  with,  from  the  very  first  day  I  arrived,  I 
was  particularly  struck  with  the  look  of  sadness,  of 
depression  and  even  of  unintelligence  of  the  people 
one  meets  in  the  street.  I  cannot  exactly  describe  it 
to  you  otherwise  than  by  Nelly's  word,  "  glum."  (If 
you  don't  know  this  word,  look  it  tip  in  the  diction- 

308 


THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE    309 

ary!)  I  can  quite  understand  now  why  those  Eng- 
lish people  of  the  middle  classes  who  can  afford  it 
make  frequent  trips  to  Paris  to  be  cheered  up  at  the 
Moulin  Rouge  and  those  similar  establishments 
which  are  kept  up  solely  for  their  benefit.  I  can 
quite  appreciate  why  it  is  that  they  enjoy  the  change 
which  Parisian  naughtiness,  however  shocking,  must 
afford  them.  For  however  improper  such  entertain- 
ments may  be,  they  must  at  least  provide  them  with 
a  healthy  reaction  against  their  own  apparent  stolid- 
ity. I  suppose,  however,  that  this  British  dullness  is 
largely  the  result  of  the  English  climate.  Indeed, 
in  the  poorer  quarters  of  London,  the  first  few  days 
we  were  here,  it  so  affected  us  that  maman  and  I 
were  always  looking  out  for  the  h'earse  that  we 
thought  must  be  ahead — for  all  the  people  in  the 
streets  looked  as  if  they  were  attending  a  funeral. 
Not  only  are  faces  expressionless  and  eyes  melan- 
choly, but  a  large  number  of  the  poorer  London 
crowd  go  about  with  their  mouths  open,  which  gives 
them  a  silly  look! 

The  poorer  working  classes  seem  to  lack  taste,  for 
their  women  are  not  only  badly  but,  more  often 
inappropriately,  dressed.  The  very  poorest  do  not 
have  plain  and  serviceable  clothes  made  for  them- 
selves, but  generally  wear  out  the  old  clothes  of 
richer  people,  which  gives  one  the  impression  that 
even  in  their  grime  they  are  most  gorgeously  over- 
dressed. An  old  woman  selHng  oranges  in  the  streets 
yesterday,  near  the  entrance  of  the  National  Portrait 
Gallery,   wore    an    ahnost    threadbare    black   velvet 


310    THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE 

mantle  trimmed  with  chenille  fringe  which  must  have 
been  made  at  least  thirty  years  ago.  The  pile  of  the 
velvet  was  almost  entirely  worn  away  and  the  warp 
of  the  material  was  a  dirty,  rusty  brown.  The 
trimming  pulled  off  in  parts  hung  in  wisps  where 
it  was  still  visible.  Another  woman  I  saw  at  the 
door  of  Westminster  Abbey  holding  a  ragged  child 
of  about  four  years  of  age  by  the  hand,  and  an- 
other baby  of  a  few  months  on  her  arm,  was 
dressed  in  an  old  violet  plush  gown,  and  had  a  small 
deerstalker's  cap  of  brown  tweed  on  her  head!  The 
older  child  wore  a  dress  of  dirty  white  embroidery 
and  a  Dutch  bonnet  of  green  velvet  trimmed  with 
fur.  And  all  these  garments  were  thick  with  grime, 
with  filth  and  unnamable  horrors,  and  hung  literally 
in  tatters  from  their  shivering  bodies.  So  much  for 
the  lower  classes.  Nevertheless  they  appear  to  wish 
to  be  smart,  and  servant  girls  wear  feathered  hats 
even  when  they  have  their  aprons  tied  around  their 
waists  and  hanging  from  beneath  their  jackets. 

The  bourgoisie  which  here  is  called  the  middle  class, 
dress  badly  too,  and  have  no  sense  of  fitness  either. 
It  amuses  maman  even  more  than  it  does  me  to  see 
hats  of  spangled  tulle  or  of  transparent  gold  net  ob- 
viously designed  for  evening  wear  only,  worn  in  the 
streets  by  ladies  who  are  out  on  foot  shopping  or 
calling  at  their  fournisseurs,  and  large  feathered  hats, 
suitable  for  carriage  wear  for  some  society  function, 
worn  in  omnibuses  or  in  the  Tube  Railway.  Yet, 
though  the  ordinary  people — both  men  and  women — 
one  meets  in  the  streets  each  day  sometimes  present 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    311 

quite  a  ludicrous  appearance  in  the  eye  of  the  foreign 
beholder,  they  all  seem  blatantly  satisfied  with  them- 
selves. They  either  lack  all  sense  of  the  grotesque  or 
are  imbued  with  a  complete  imperviousness  to  mock- 
ery, which  seems  astonishing  to  us  who,  as  a  nation, 
are  so  sensitive  to  ridicule,  and  so  keenly  affected  by 
criticism.  But  I  am  bound  to  say  that  this  attitude  of 
complete  indifference  to  outside  opinion  gives  the 
English  a  certain  personal  and  individual  dignity 
which  is  itself  so  forcible — so  compelling — that  it  pre- 
cludes all  ideas  of  mockery  on  our  part ;  and  we  can- 
not laugh  at  them. 

It  seems  to  me  that  there  is  no  comparison  what- 
ever to  be  established  between  the  upper  and  lower 
classes  in  England.  For  instance,  there  is  far  less 
essential  difference  between  a  Russian  and  a  French- 
man than  between  an  English  working  man  and  an 
English  aristocrat.  You  would  never  think  that  both 
were  of  the  same  race  and  of  the  same  community. 
There  is  all  the  difference  between  them  that  exists 
between  an  ignorant,  barbarous  people  and  a  super- 
civilised,  cultured  race.  We  have  met  two  or  three 
men  here  of  patrician  families  who  are  interested 
in  Art  or  Learning  who  seem  to  be  the  perfection  of 
civilisation.  Yet  side  by  side  with  them  in  the  same 
nation  are  the  strong,  unintelligent  and  often  coarse 
individuals  of  the  middle  classes,  and  the  debased 
types  of  the  lower  classes!  Surely  the  English  are 
the  people  of  extremes! 

But  England  is  pre-eminently  the  country  of  aris- 
tocrats,  who   so    far    form   its   classes  dirigeanies. 


312    THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

Though  democracy  is  spoken  of,  there  seems  to  be 
no  real  democratic  spirit  as  we  understand  it,  and 
even  the  fieriest  democrat  seems  filled  with  respect  at 
the  mere  name  of  a  lord !  I  have  not  yet  met  a  single 
British-born  subject  who  has  not  tried  to  persuade 
me  of  his  or  her  noble  descent!  Indeed,  I  should 
think  from  all  I  can  judge  that  democracy  here  is 
rather  the  intellectual  attitude  of  a  certain  thoughtful 
set  than  the  true  inner  conviction  of  the  masses. 

There  is  one  thing  that  strikes  one  more  than  any- 
thing about  the  English  of  all  classes,  and  which  ought 
to  endear  them  to  the  people  of  all  nations,  and  that  is 
their  extraordinary  sense  of  hospitality.  The  saying 
that,  "  the  friends  of  our  friends  are  our  friends,'* 
ought  to  be  considered  entirely  English,  for  the  most 
open-hearted  hospitality  reigns  here  everywhere  and 
welcomes  you  from  the  very  shores  of  Great  Britain. 
Once  you  have  been  introduced  to  an  English  family, 
not  only  are  you  asked  to  dinner  at  once  by  them 
and  their  friends,  but  it  often  happens  that  you  are 
invited  to  spend  several  days  in  the  houses  of  people 
you  have  seen  but  once  or  twice.  You  are  brought 
right  into  their  homes  immediately  as  you  never 
would  be  in  France,  for  as  you  know,  French  people 
rarely  ask  their  friends  to  stay  in  their  houses 
unless  they  know  them  very  well  indeed.  And  that 
brings  me  to  the  question  of  the  English  home.  Al- 
though the  English  have  the  word  "  home,"  they  do 
not  seem  to  me  to  have  the  thing  itself,  at  least  not  as 
we  understand  it,  for  it  does  not  correspond  at  all  to 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    313 

our  word  foyer.  Perhaps  it  is  because  of  their  great 
hospitality  to  outsiders  that  the  inner  sacredness  of 
the  home  is  partially  destroyed,  although  it  is  of 
course  most  delightful  for  the  stranger.  Then  again, 
to  us  the  English  family  seems  more  disbanded  than 
ours,  each  individual  being  a  freer  creature,  having  a 
separate  entity  with  personal  interests  outside.  Fath- 
ers and  sons,  mothers  and  daughters  do  not  seem  to 
be  bound  together  by  such  close  family  ties  of  exces- 
sive affection  as  in  France.  Often  the  young  men  in 
search  of  a  livelihood  leave  the  paternal  roof  when 
quite  young,  and  go  to  the  uttermost  ends  of  the 
earth.  This  breaks  up  the  home  circle,  and  later  on 
in  life,  members  of  the  same  family  do  not  seem  here 
to  be  as  united  as  they  are  in  France,  nor  as  morally 
bound  to  further  one  another's  interests  in  life  as  is 
the  case  with  the  various  members  of  a  French  fam- 
ily. As  they  do  not  help  one  another,  each  one  of 
them  is  independent  of  the  others,  and  by  degrees, 
perhaps,  independence  leads  to  indifference. 

There  is  one  thing  I  notice  particularly  among 
young  Englishmen,  which  is  that  each  man  fends  for 
himself  and  makes  his  own  career.  There  is  very 
little  asking  of  protections  or  help  or  favour  from 
other  people  in  a  higher  or  better  position,  as  tliere  is 
with  us — at  least  among  the  bourgeoisie.  For  in- 
stance, one  of  the  friends  of  Mrs.  Brent  is  the  owner 
of  a  paper  and  a  very  influential  man.  But  his  own 
sons  and  nephews  have  begun  at  the  very  foot  of  the 
ladder  in  the  office  as  mere  clerks,  just  like  all  the  other 


314    THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

employes,  and  they  have  not  sought  aid,  moral  or 
material,  either  from  their  father  or  uncles  or  cousins 
or  friends,  or  friends'  friends,  or  mere  acquaintances. 

You  will  perhaps  wonder  how  it  is  that  I  have  got 
together  so  many  observations  concerning  the  customs 
of  the  English  in  so  short  a  time.  But  you  must  re- 
member that  precisely  because  of  the  hospitality  of 
this  country,  I  have  met  not  only  quantities  of  people, 
but  many  kinds  of  people — friends  of  the  Brents  and 
of  the  Thorntons,  and  many  friends  of  their  friends 
too.  We  are  invited  everywhere  with  the  greatest 
kindness,  and  I  think  we  are  popular  wherever  we  go 
— at  least  we  seem  to  be  well  liked.  Maman  for  the 
sweetness  and  affability  which  you  know  characterizes 
her,  and  I  because  I  can  speak  English  and  tell  them 
all  about  my  own  country. 

Maman  begs  me  to  tell  you  that  sHe  is  quite  well 
and  is  enjoying  her  stay  here  enormously.  Clemence 
still  ipersists  in  occasionally  calling  English  people, 
"  des  sauvages,"  and  cannot  reconcile  herself  to  Eng- 
lish cooking.  But  she  makes  omelettes  for  the  ser- 
vants' supper  in  the  kitchen  now  which  have  won  her 
the  admiration  and  respect  of  the  domestics  here. 
Also  she  has  trimmed  the  housemaid  a  hat  which  has 
been  so  great  a  success  that  all  the  housemaids  of  the 
neighbourhood  are  imploring  them  to  trim  their  Sun- 
day headgear  too!  I  tell  her  that  she  will  be  setting 
up  a  milliner's  establishment  soon  in  Kensington 
High  street,  but  she  looks  at  me  with  a  roguish  grin 
and  replies: 

"  Jamais  de  la  vie! "    And  then  in  quite  another 


THE    EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    315 

tone  adds  with  a  sigh :       "  Quand  rentrons-nous  d 
Paris,  mademoiselle  f** 

Dear  Pomm,  we  miss  you  very  much.  Mrs.  Brent, 
who  is  hospitality  and  kindness  themselves  combined, 
says  you  must  come  over  here  too,  and  though  there 
are  no  book-stalls  along  the  quays  of  the  Thames, 
there  are  plenty  of  nice  second-hand  book-shops  in 
London.  Just  think,  Pomm!  What  undiscovered 
bargains  there  are,  perhaps,  to  be  had  here! 

We  all  join  in  sending  you  our  best  love  and  re- 
membrances,  and  hope  that  you   will   summon   up 
enough  courage  to  reconsider  your  determination  and 
come  over  to  fetch  us  back  later  on. 
.Your  loving  friend, 

Jacqueline. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

One  day  Nelly  and  Jacqueline  arranged  to  go  out 
shopping  together  in  the  West  End,  and  Madame 
Reville  and  Mrs.  Brent  had  agreed  to  meet  them  at 
a  quarter  to  four  at  a  famous  tea  shop  in  Bond  Street, 
so  that  they  might  have  the  pleasure  of  all  coming 
back  together  in  a  taxicab  to  Rose  Lodge.  After 
Jacqueline — who  was  delighted  with  the  relative 
cheapness  of  such  things  in  London,  had  purchased 
unlimited  quantities  of  ribbons,  laces  and  dress  ma- 
terials, they  arrived  later  laden  with  numerous  small 
parcels  at  the  door  of  the  tearoom,  and  met  Mrs. 
Brent  and  Frangoise  just  as  they  were  going  in.  As 
it  was  comparatively  early,  they  found  as  they  entered 
the  principal  room  of  the  establishment  that  nearly 
all  the  seats  were  iree.  They  were  just  about  to  se- 
lect one  of  the  larger  tables  when  Nelly  caught  sight 
of  a  young  man  reading  a  paper,  which  nearly  oblit- 
erated him  from  view  with  its  spreading  pages.  She 
gave  a  cry  of  surprise. 

"Why,  there's  Oliver!" 

"Oliver  in  London?"  cried  Mrs.  Brent.  "You 
are  mad,  Nelly ! " 

"Not  at  all,"  cried  Nelly.  "'It's  Oliver.  I  saw 
him  peep  from  behind  the  paper." 

And  it  was  Oliver,  who  was  forced  to  admit  his 
identity  shame-facedly  enough,  when  Nelly  impetu- 

316 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    317 

ously  tore  down  the  sheet  that  concealed  him.  As 
he  had  seen  the  four  ladies  enter  the  room,  and 
recognised  them,  he  had  instinctively  raised  the  bar- 
rier of  the  Illustrated  News  between  himself  and 
Jacqueline. 

"Now  explain  yourself,  sir!  and  your  infamy, 
your  treachery,  your  felony!  What  do  you  mean  by 
coming  to  London  secretly  in  this  way,  taking 
your  tea  alone  in  Bond  Street  and  hiding  from  the 
inmates  of  Rose  Lodge ! "  cried  Mrs.  Brent  in  almost 
breathless  anger. 

"  Yes,  we  demand  an  explanation  at  once !  "  broke 
in  Nelly. 

"  Your  duplicity  and  base  ingratitude  are  equally 
abominable,"  continued  Mrs.  Brent. 

"  You  ought  to  be  hanged,  drawn  and  quartered," 
pursued  Nelly  with  rage. 

But  Jacqueline,  who  hitherto  had  been  silent  and 
had  whitened  to  her  lips  as  soon  as  she  had  seen  Oli- 
ver, now  came  forth  as  peacemaker  and  thrusting 
herself  between  the  two  irate  women  and  placing  a 
firm  though  tender  hand  upon  Mrs.  Brent's  arm  and 
upon  Nelly's  shoulder  she  pulled  them  both  away 
from  the  unfortunate  Oliver,  thus  saving  him  from 
further  expostulations  that  seemed  likely  to  result  in 
actual  blows. 

"Gently,  gently,  my  friends,"  she  said  smilingly. 
"  Let  the  poor  fellow  explain  himself  before  you  put 
him  to  death !  "  At  which  sally  there  was  a  general 
laugh,  and  Mrs.  Brent  and  Nelly  fell  each  into  a  chair 
on  either  side  of  Jacqueline. 


3i8    THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

Jacqueline's  words  had  had  their  effect.  Oliver 
had  understood  that  even  if  her  resentment  towards 
him  had  not  entirely  subsided,  at  least  she  was  de- 
termined to  show  no  trace  of  it  before  others.  This 
put  him  somewhat  at  his  ease — for  his  instinctive 
movement  to  hide  himself  behind  the  newspaper  as 
the  party  had  entered  the  room,  was  to  avoid  Jacque- 
line's confusion  at  seeing  him.  He  made  his  ex- 
planations to  his  aunt  quite  simply. 

"My  dear  auntie,  forgive  me  for  treating  you 
thus.  I  arrived  in  London  only  this  morning,  having 
travelled  all  night!  And  I  return  to  Paris  by  this 
evening's  train.  I  went  and  had  a  wash  up  at  my 
club  and  now,  having  contracted  my  business  here 
came  into  this  place  for  a  quiet  cup  of  tea." 

"  But  why  not  come  down  to  Rose  Lodge  ?  " 

"  Because  I  must  get  back  to-morrow,"  said  Oliver 
in  a  decided  tone,  that  put  an  end  to  all  attempts  at 
further  inquiry. 

"  But  at  least  tell  us  why  you  came,"  put  in  Nelly 
tearfully. 

"Ah!  Voilh!"  said  Oliver  mysteriously.  And 
looking  towards  Jacqueline  he  added  shyly,  "  That 
largely  concerns  Mademoiselle  Jacqueline." 

All  eyes  were  turned  towards  Jacqueline  in  aston- 
ishment. But  none  was  more  amazed  than  Jacque- 
line herself. 

"  It  concerns  me! "  exclaimed  Jacqueline.  "  But 
how?    I  cannot  understand." 

"  This  is  how,"  said  Oliver.  "  It  appears  that  a 
rich  New  Yorker, — a  certain  Mr.  Silas  P.  Van  der 
Weyde! — ^wants  to  bujr  the  portrait  of  *the  modern 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    319 

French  girl,'  now  in  the  Academy.  He  declares  that 
it  is  the  living  image  of  his  only  daughter,  who  died 
last  year !  He  made  several  proposals  to  Hoskins,  my 
dealer,  declaring  that  he  must  have  it  at  any  cost. 
Hoskins  wrote  to  me  several  times  about  it.  But  I 
absolutely  refused  to  sell.  Unfortunately  Hoskins 
seems  as  keen  to  get  Mr.  Silas  P.  Van  der  Weyde  for 
a  client  as  Mr.  Van  der  Weyde  is  to  buy  my  picture. 
Van  der  Weyde  offered  him  first  one  thousand,  and 
then  two  thousand  pounds  for  the  picture,  and  a  big 
commission  besides.  ...  I  am  sorry  I  can't 
let  him  have  it  .  .  .  but  as  he  did  not  seem 
inclined  to  take  my  refusal  seriously  I  had  to  jump 
into  a  train  at  once,  so  as  to  be  here  and  prevent 
Hoskins  from  being  inveigled  into  selling  against  my 
orders." 

"  But  why  won't  you  sell  it  ?  "  cried  Nelly  impetu- 
ously. 

"  Yes,  why  ?  "  queried  Mrs.  Brent. 

Oliver  made  no  answer,  but  his  eyes  sought  Jacque- 
line's face  for  a  few  seconds  and  seemed  to  ask  a 
mute  question. 

"  Two  thousand  pounds !  "  broke  in  Mrs.  Brent,  al- 
most suffocated  at  the  magnitude  of  the  sum.  "  What 
a  price !  " 

"  Why  won't  you  accept  the  offer?  "  asked  Jacque- 
line, suddenly  addressing  Oliver.  She  spoke  too  al- 
most eagerly. 

Again  Oliver  did  not  answer  at  once.  But  he 
looked  straight  at  Jacqueline  once  more,  and  then 
said  in  a  low  voice,  with  his  eyes  still  on  hers : 

"  You  know  that  I  would  never  sell  that  picture, 


320    THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

Jacqueline.  Besides  I  have  not  the  right  to  do  so, 
even  if  I  wished.    I  consider  that  it  is  your  property." 

A  curious,  mysterious  smile  of  satisfaction  hovered 
around  Jacqueline's  mouth,  but  she  made  no  answer. 
Her  mother,  looking  at  her,  could  not  be  sure  whether 
her  gratification  came  from  the  fact  of  Oliver's  recog- 
nition of  her  rights  to  the  picture,  or  because  of  the 
feeling  in  Oliver's  heart,  which  his  persistent  refusal 
of  the  offer  indicated. 

"  And  are  you  really  not  going  to  stay  here  a  little, 
Oliver?"  asked  Nelly  as  she  sat  down  at  the  table 
and  threw  off  her  coat  and  gloves,  displaying  her 
usual  lack  of  care  of  her  things. 

"Oh  no!  I  could  only  afford  the  time  to  settle 
with  the  greedy  Hoskins." 

"Oh,  Oliver  darling,"  said  Mrs.  Brent  gently,  re- 
proachfully and  with  tears  in  her  eyes.  "  Surely  you 
might  stay  a  little  longer." 

"  Perhaps  I'm  not  wanted,"  he  said  with  a  fugitive 
smile,  looking  at  Jacqueline. 

Jacqueline,  having  arranged  her  parcels  carefully 
on  a  chair,  now  turned  towards  a  bewildered  attend- 
ant to  give  the  order  for  the  tea — but  as  she  did  so 
she  raised  her  eyes  to  Oliver's  and  said  gently,  as  if 
in  rebuke: 

"Oh,  I'm  quite  sure  that  everybody  here  wants 
you ! "  And  Oliver's  eyes  acknowledged  his  gratitude 
for  her  words. 

And  while  she  began  with  her  mother's  help  to  set- 
tle the  tea-things,  Mrs.  Brent  and  Nelly  carried  Oliver 
off  to  the  other  end  of  the  room  and  set  to  work  to 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    321 

convince  him  that  he  must  come  and  stay  for  a  few 
days  at  Rose  Lodge.  In  the  end  they  won  the  day — ■ 
though  Jacqueline  and  Frangoise  both  knew  that  he 
had  agreed  to  remain  in  London  only  because  of 
Jacqueline's  implied  permission. 

So  there  were  five  of  them  to  return  to  Kensington 
in  the  taxi. 

That  evening  the  two  Thornton  girls  and  their 
brother  Robert  came  to  dinner.  They  were  intro- 
duced to  Oliver — whose  name  they  knew  and  whose 
glory  appeared  a  great  thing  to  them.  Both  Elsie 
and  Janet  were  loud  in  their  praise  of  his  Academy 
picture  and  its  magnificent  likeness  to  Jacqueline. 

When  Jacqueline  came  down  to  dinner,  her  mother 
was  surprised  to  see  that  she  had  put  on  a  gown  she 
had  been  reserving  as  her  best.  It  was  of  white 
crepe  de  chine,  inserted  with  fine  lace  and  lined 
throughout  with  rose-coloured  silk  which  sent  a  warm 
glow  as  of  sunlight  shining  beneath  the  thin  filmy 
material.  Through  her  hair,  dressed  high  upon  the 
crown  of  her  head,  she  had  drawn  a  blue  ribbon,  the 
colour  of  darkest  lapis  lazuli,  and  into  her  white  satin 
sash,  at  the  waist,  she  had  tucked  a  large  pink  rose. 
Compared  to  the  boyish  and  untidy  Nelly  and  to  the 
two  badly-dressed  English  girls,  in  their  cheap,  ready- 
made  blouses  of  white  silk  and  dark  skirts  lined 
with  cotton  linings,  Jacqueline  appeared  like  a  fem- 
inine being  of  another  sphere.  Oliver  looked  at  her 
admiringly  as  she  came  into  the  white  panelled  draw- 
ing-room, tall,  slim  and  stately. 

But  there  was  a  look  of  maturity  on  her  face  which 


322    THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

had  not  been  there  before,  and  a  serious  expression 
in  her  eyes  that  he  did  not  know.  She  was  perfectly 
natural  in  her  bearing  towards  him,  only  her  eyes 
avoided  his  when  they  sipoke  together  upon  subjects 
of  general  interest  at  dinner  with  the  others.  Oliver 
sat  at  the  head  of  the  table,  and  Frangoise  on  his 
right  side.  On  his  left  was  Elsie  Thornton.  During 
the  meal  he  conversed  chiefly  with  his  two  neighbours, 
and  Jacqueline,  from  her  seat  lower  down  the  table 
by  the  side  of  Robert  Thornton,  caught  herself  look- 
ing in  Oliver's  direction  occasionally,  and  feeling  un- 
pleasantly disturbed  when  she  saw  him  bending  over 
Elsie's  bright  golden  head,  though  she  did  not  ac- 
knowledge that  feeling  of  discomfort  even  to  herself. 
To  prove  her  indifference,  however,  she  laid  herself 
out  to  be  charming  to  young  Robert  Thornton,  nearly 
causing  that  estimable  young  man  to  lose  his  head, 
and  making  Nelly,  who  had  hitherto  considered  Rob- 
ert her  special  property,  quite  jealous. 

After  dinner,  the  evening  was  so  cool  and  balmy 
that  Nelly  suggested  that  they  should  all  go  into  the 
garden  and  take  their  coffee  on  the  lawn.  In  the 
soft  darkness  of  the  summer's  night,  Jacqueline  was 
curiously  elated  and  yet  strangely  troubled.  She 
had  felt  a  little  hurt  because  all  through  the  dinner 
Oliver  had  not  once  addressed  her  directly,  though 
he  had  chatted  unrestrainedly  and  in  a  most  interest- 
ing way  with  Elsie  Thornton.  Now  Elsie  Thornton's 
ideas  on  art  were  most  rudimentary  and  commonplace, 
and  Jacqueline  felt  strangely  hurt  to  hear  him  explain 
certain  of  his  own  theories  to  the  girl  as  if  her  opinion 


THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE    323 

really  mattered  to  him.  And  Jacqueline,  who  formerly 
had  taken  so  great  an  interest  in  these  theories  and  had 
discussed  them  with  Oliver  before  their  quarrel,  felt 
a  sort  of  unaccountable  jealousy  now,  to  hear  him 
speak  of  his  ideals  of  art  with  another  woman.  She 
sat  down  in  a  garden  chair  that  had  been  moved  out 
of  the  circle  and  stood  apart.  She  did  not  take  coffee. 
But  she  remained  quiet  and  silent,  conscious  only  of 
the  soft  balminess  of  the  evening  air  and  feeling  oddly 
content  though  still  perturbed.  The  other  young 
people  grouped  around  the  coffee  table,  were  chat- 
tering like  so  many  magpies. 

Suddenly  Jacqueline  felt  that  someone  standing  up 
beside  her  chair  in  the  darkness  was  folding  a  soft 
woollen  shawl  around  her  shoulders.  She  shivered 
and  looked  up.  But  already  she  knew  that  it  was 
Oliver. 

"  I've  brought  you  this  shawl,  Jacqueline,  I  know 
you  are  '  frileuse  *  and  you  might  take  cold.  .  .  .'* 
He  spoke  in  French  and  the  use  of  another  language 
seemed  to  separate  them  still  more  from  the  group  of 
the  others,  who  were  talking  in  English.       ^ 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Jacqueline  gently,  as  she  drew 
the  soft  warmth  about  her. 

Oliver  could  not  speak  for  a  few  moments,  so 
great  was  his  emotion  at  Jacqueline's  nearness.  But 
he  still  stood  by  her  side,  and  taking  advantage  of 
their  isolation  from  the  merry  group  beyond,  he  bent 
over  her  chair  and  whispered  gently,  speaking  once 
more  in  French: 

"  Have  you  forgiven  me,  Jacqueline  ?  " 


324    THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

For  a  breathless  instant  he  waited  for  her  answer. 
"  Yes,  Oliver."    And  after  a  very  slight  hesitation 
she  added :   "  Thank  you." 

She  spoke  very  gravely.     But  Oliver  understood. 


CHAPTER   XX 

The  following  morning  Jacqueline  went  to  her 
mother's  room  early,  as  she  went  each  morning  to 
make  her  plans  with  Frangoise  for  the  day.  Fran- 
goise  was  combing  out  her  long  brown  hair  when  Jac- 
queline entered,  and  once  again  the  daughter  was 
struck  with  the  mother's  youth  fulness  and  charm.  The 
bright  waving  tresses  softly  brushed  and  shining, 
framed  her  fine  oval  face  delightfully  and  her  regular 
features  had  a  youth  and  expression  which  struck 
Jacqueline  more  particularly  than  ever  it  had  done 
hitherto.  Since  their  full  explanation  some  months 
back,  she  had  learned  to  look  upon  Frangoise  with  a 
more  critical  eye,  and  more  and  more  each  day  she 
found  herself  forced  to  admire  the  charm  and  beauty 
of  her  mother. 

"  How  girlish  you  look  with  your  hair  down, 
maman  cherie.  You  positively  look  younger  than  I 
do.  .  .  .  There's  such  innocence  too  in  your 
sweet  expression." 

And  she  took  Frangoise's  face  between  her  two 
palms  and  contemplated  it  with  love. 

"  There's  not  a  wrinkle  on  your  skin,  and  your 
eyes  are  as  bright  as  a  little  child's!  Mother  dar- 
ling— "  she  added  in  a  deeper  tone  after  a  little  pause. 
"  Mother  darling,  is  it  true  that  no  man  except  my 

32s 


326    THE   EDUCATION  OE  JACQUELINE 

father  has  ever  made  love  to  you?  You  are  so  at- 
tractive— so  adorable,  i.,  t.i  i.i  It  seems  almost 
impossible!  " 

Frangoise  blushed  scarlet  and  strove  to  tear  her- 
self from  Jacqueline's  grasp.  But  Jacqueline  held  her 
tightly. 

"  Tell  me,  mother  darling ;  confess  to  your  child. 
She  will  understand  you  only  too  well.     . 
Alas!" 

"  But,  my  dearest,  there's  nothing  to  tell,"  said 
Frangoise.  "  Since  your  father's  death  I  have  never 
had  a  single  thought  in  the  world  but  for  you." 

Jacqueline,  silent,  withdrew  her  hands  from  her 
mother's  face  and  allowed  her  to  proceed  with  her 
toilette.  She  stood  by  the  side  of  the  dressing-table 
which  stood  in  front  of  the  window,  and  let  her  eyes 
wander  over  the  tree-tops  in  the  garden  beyond. 

"  Then  it  is  a  pity — a  thousand  pities — that  it  was 
so,  mother!  Every  human  being  has  a  right  to  try 
for  their  own  happiness.  And  you,  more  than  most, 
would  have  been  entirely  justified  in  building  up  the 
joy  of  life  for  yourself  again  when  you  learnt  that 
you  had  been  so  deluded." 

"  But,  my  dearest,  I  had  no  wish  to  seek  for  a 
new  love.  I  had  you!  No  man  could  be  to  me  what 
you  were !  I  would  have  given  no  stranger  any  right 
over  you,  my  precious  one." 

"  But  there  are  other  demands  than  those  of 
motherhood  in  a  woman's  heart.  And  if  she  has  been 
mistaken  in  a  first  venture,  she  has  the  right  to  try 
again  for  happiness."    Jacqueline  spoke  with  gravity 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    327 

and  with'  a  personal  conviction  that  showed  that  while 
speaking  of  her  mother's  case,  she  was  also  alluding 
to  herself. 

Frangoise  understood  what  Jacqueline's  words  im- 
plied, but  wilfully  disregarding  the  personal  note  in 
her  daughter's  remark,  she  pursued: 

"  My  dearest,  I  never  once  contemplated  a  second 
venture.  I  think  that  the  springs  of  passion  were 
dried  up  in  me.  I  had  been  educated  to  accept  fate 
passively.  I  had  not  the  vitality  in  me  to  gather  up 
the  fragments  of  my  broken  being  once  more  and 
seek  love  again.  I  resigned  myself  to  being  a  failure 
in  matters  of  love.  And  I  put  all  my  passion  into  the 
mothering  of  you." 

Jacqueline  bent  over  her  mother  and  kissed  the 
long,  unbound  hair  which  still  rested  on  her  white 
shoulders. 

"  You  have  at  least  a  perfect  genius  for  mothering, 
maman  cherie,  I  am  bound  to  admit  that,"  said  Jac- 
queline, kissing  her  once  more.  "  But  it  is  evident 
that  you  were  trained  to  be  a  victim,  mother  darling. 
You  were  not  of  our  present  generation  you  see.  We 
apparently  are  made  to  victimize." 

Frangoise  made  no  answer.  IShe  seemed  suddenly 
fired  with  a  desire  to  get  through  her  dressing  quickly. 
She  wound  up  her  long  and  wonderful  hair  and  began 
slipping  into  her  gown.  Jacqueline  was  looking  out 
over  the  tree-tops  as  if  beyond  the  horizon  she  saw 
the  wraithes  of  other  hopes  arising  in  the  dim  future. 

When  Frangoise  was  ready  she  spoke  again. 

"  My  darling,  I  want  to  ask  you  something." 


328    THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

Jacqueline  turned  round  with  wide-open,  surprised 
eyes. 

"  Ask,  mother  mine.    What  is  it  ?  " 

"  What  do  you  intend  doing  with  Oliver?  " 

Jacqueline  made  no  immediate  answer.  A  deep 
flush  spread  over  her  face  and  she  turned  her  gaze 
away  once  more  to  the  distant  horizon.  There  was 
no  indication  in  her  attitude  to  prove  that  she  had 
heard  her  mother's  question. 

There  was  a  pause  of  a  few  moments. 

"  Eh ! "  Frangoise  questioned  again.  She  seemed 
wilfully  determined  to  get  an  answer. 

"  Maman  cherie,  I  cannot  yet  say  what  I  shall  do. 
Besides,  how  do  I  know  what  he  wants  ?  " 

"  He  wants  you  to  mfarry  him,  Jacqueline.  I  know 
that." 

Jacqueline  was  again  silent  for  a  few  moments. 
Then  suddenly  she  turned  and  rushed  over  the  space 
that  separated  her  from  her  mother's  side,  falling 
into  Fran^oise's  open  arms. 

"Maman  cherie!  .  .  .  Since  you  wish  to 
understand.  .  .  .  Let  me  tell  you  this.  .  .  . 
I  do  not  know  what  I  feel  really.  ...  I  cannot 
say.  I  love  Oliver  with  all  that  is  best  in  me.  That 
at  least  I  do  know.  .  .  .  He  is  in  a  way  indis- 
pensable to  my  intellectual  self.  I  have  found  that 
out  now.  But  the  affection,  and  the  sympathy,  and 
even  the  tenderness  I  have  for  him  lack  the  magic 
that  would  make  it  real  love.  .  .  .  Oh  mother. 
.  .  .  the  magic  of  love!  .  .  ."  and  her 
thoughts  dwelt  for  a  rapid  instant  on  the  memory  of 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    329 

Jerome's  words  under  the  moonlight  in  the  wood  of 
La-Celle-St.-Cloud,  and  of  his  kiss  on  the  thresh- 
old of  the  studio.  "O  mother!  Must  I  let  my 
reason,  my  brain,  and  all  that  my  education  has  de- 
veloped in  me,  alone  guide  me?  May  I  not  listen  to 
the  divine  inspiration  of  the  physical  being  in  me 
that  calls  for  the  magic  that  is  held  in  human  love — 
in  a  human  kiss  ?  " 

"Of  course  you  may,  my  sweetest."  For  a  few 
moments  Frangoise,  holding  her  child  to  her,  seemed 
to  be  collecting  her  thoughts.  "  But  listen  to  me  and 
let  my  experience  guide  you  if  it  can.  In  so  many 
things  you  are  far  wiser  than  I,  my  daughter.  But  in 
others,  in  spite  of  all  that  you  may  know  theoretically, 
I  know  better  than  you,  because  I  have  lived  life  while 
you,  so  far,  have  only  dreamed  it.  It  is  not  always 
the  better  man  who  can  inspire  that  magic,  my  Jacque- 
line. It  is  more  often  the  worse  man.  You  may  think 
I  exaggerate,  but  alas !  what  I  tell  you  is  unfortunately 
the  exact  truth." 

"  I  believe  you,  mother ;  indeed  I  do.  Because  I  will 
believe  you.     .     .     ." 

"  It  is  the  man  who  has  the  most  experience  of 
many  women  who  is  often  the  more  attractive,  the 
more  perfect  and  the  more  subtle  lover,  my  dearest. 
It  is  the  man  who  has  practised  the  art  of  love  often 
and  with  many  different  women  who  has  become 
skilled.  And  it  is  just  because  he  has  become  so  pro- 
ficient in  the  art  and  has  made  of  love  a  mere  pastime, 
that  he  is  precisely  the  man  who  cannot  be  depended 
upon  morally." 


330    THE  EDUCATION  OE  JACQUELINE 

"I  understand  .  .  .  mother.  ...  I  un- 
derstand." 

"  The  man  who  feels  deeply,  sincerely,  is  often  less 
convincing  because  the  very  intensity  of  his  own  emo- 
tions forbids  him  the  more  elaborate  expression  of 
them.  He  is  moved  too  deeply  to  be  capable  of  fine 
words  and  subtle  imagery.  .  ,  .  So  it  is  with 
Oliver.  That  is  why  he  lacks  the  magic  for  you. 
Do  you  understand  that?" 

"  Yes,  mother,  you  are  right.  I  feel  that  your  ex- 
planation is  entirely  wise.  But  let  me  explain  to  you 
all  that  I  feel.  Be  my  sweet,  my  dear  confessor  be- 
fore whom  I  may  bare  my  entire  heart  .  .  . 
without  fear  of  severe  criticism.  Understand  me  bet- 
ter even  than  I  understand  myself." 

"Dearest,  I  understand  you  only  too  well,  I  am 
your  mother  and  you  are  my  child — bone  of  my  bone, 
flesh  of  my  flesh.  I  bore  you  into  the  world  with  in- 
effable pain,  and  I  have  been  both  father  and  mother 
to  you.  Try  to  learn  your  lesson  through  the  experi- 
ence of  my  own  tortured  heart.  That  magic  for  which 
you  yearn — and  which  I  understand  so  well — is  pre- 
cisely the  kind  of  attraction  which  I  felt  towards  your 
father,  and  which  every  very  young  woman  feels  for 
the  man  the  first  time  she  loves.  I  was  quite  young, 
untried  and  inexperienced  when  I  was  married  to 
your  father,  and  although  he  never  loved  me  and 
therefore  never  lost  his  head  himself,  he  made  me 
love  him  because  of  the  careful  and  artistic  technique 
(I  can  find  no  other  word  to  express  myself  better) 
of  his  methods." 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    331 

"  Yes,  yes !  "  cried  Jacqueline,  her  burning  face 
buried  still  deeper  in  her  mother's  breast. 

She  thought  of  Jerome's  subtle  love-making  which 
appealed  only  to  the  senses,  and  not  to  the  soul — com- 
pared to  Oliver's  direct  and  sincere  appeal  to  her 
heart. 

"The  truth  is,"  pursued  Frangoise  in  her  soft, 
even  voice,  her  warm  breath  sweeping  through  Jac- 
queline's hair,  "the  truth  is,  darling,  that  when  a 
man  makes  a  woman  love  him  in  such  a  way,  he 
makes  her  love  love  itself,  and  not  the  lover.  Don't 
you  see,  darling?"  Frangoise's  voice  trembled  and 
broke.  "  Your  father  had  been  the  lover  of  so  many 
women  before  I  married  him,  that  love-making  had 
become  as  a  mere  amusement  for  him.  And  I  was 
young,  fresh  and  desirable  as  you  are  now.  But  he 
made  me  in  love  with  love  only.  Perhaps  that  is  why 
my  love  for  him  faded  so  quickly  and  disappeared 
almost  as  if  it  had  never  been."  Frangoise  bent  still 
lower  over  Jacqueline's  bowed  head  as  she  whispered 
to  her :  "  And  that  was  precisely  the  feeling  that 
Jerome  aroused  in  your  young  heart,  my  sweetest, 
was  it  not  ?  " 

"  Yes,  mother,  yes,"  Jacqueline  whispered  in  reply. 
And  then  pressing  her  face  still  deeper  into  the  divine 
refuge  of  her  mother's  breast  as  if  to  conceal  the  re- 
morse and  shame  of  her  words,  she  added : 

"  Such  men  are  not  the  best,  perhaps.  But  they 
make  a  woman     .     .     .     want  to  live.     .     .     ." 

FrauQoise  was  silenced.  She  kissed  the  bowed 
head  on  her  breast  and  then  gently  stroked  Jacque- 


332     THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

line's  golden  hair  as  if  to  soothe  the  pain  of  conflict- 
ing thought  in  her  child's  mind. 

"  Listen,  sweet,"  she  whispered  once  more.  "  If  I 
could  rejoice  in  anything  that  has  hurt  you,  I  would 
rejoice  that  experience  has  come  to  you  now,  before 
it  is  too  late  to  build  up  your  life  definitely.  Knowl- 
edge might  have  come  to  you  after  marriage  only,  as 
it  did  to  me !  It  is  lucky  that  it  came  before  anything 
irrevocable,  is  it  not?  For  you  will  be  a  better  and 
a  wiser  woman  now.  You  will  know  the  right 
from  the  wrong  love.  You  will  understand  that 
a  woman  cannot,  must  not,  build  up  her  whole  life  of 
happiness  on  the  evanescent,  perishable  fabric  of  that 
splendid  but  deceptive  magic  of  which  you  speak — 
but  upon  the  conscious  knowledge  of  a  man's  true 
character.     .     .     ." 

Jacqueline  lifted  up  her  head  and  dried  her  eyes. 

"  Oh  mother!  For  all  your  apparent  youth,  how 
wise,  how  terribly  wise  you  are!  You  are  in  yourself 
an  education!  " 

Frangoise  smiled  tenderly,  and  kissed  her  softly. 
Then  she  definitely  finished  her  toilette  and  together 
they  turned  to  go  downstairs. 

"Be  kind  to  Oliver,  darling.  He  is  so  devoted 
to  you.    Promise  me  you  will  be  kind.     .     .     ." 

"Oh,  maman  cherie/'  said  Jacqueline,  smiling, 
"you  are  but  a  wicked, matchmaker  after  all,  I  fear!  " 

"  But  you  will  be  kind  to  the  poor  fellow,  Jacque- 
line?    Promise  me!"  insisted  Frangoise. 

"  Yes,  I  will  go  as  far  as  that.  I  will  be  kind,  I 
promise  no  more." 


CHAPTER   XXI 

After  the  evening  of  Oliver's  arrival  and  his  short 
conversation  in  the  garden,  the  old  camaraderie  was 
resumed  between  him  and  Jacqueline,  and  progressed 
afterwards  as  if  there  had  never  been  a  break.  Oliver 
yielding  to  the  entreaties  of  his  aunt  and  sister  and 
rejoicing  in  Jacqueline's  newly  returned  graciousness, 
decided  to  spend  the  rest  of  the  summer  at  Rose 
Lodge. 

In  a  sense  he  was  quite  the  lion  of  the  season,  for 
the  success  of  his  picture  had  suddenly  placed  him 
among  the  foremost  English  painters  of  the  day.  But 
although  the  bewildered  dealer  had  received  orders 
from  his  patron  to  increase  the  price  offered  to  a 
still  higher  figure,  so  determined  was  Silas  Van  der 
Weyde  to  secure  the  "  Modem  French  Girl,"  Oliver 
was  still  as  equally  determined  not  to  sell. 

After  several  personal  interviews  with  Mr.  Van 
der  Weyde,  who  still  allowed  his  offer  to  remain 
open,  should  the  young  painter  change  his  mind  later, 
Oliver  abandoned  all  thought  of  his  profession  for 
the  time  being  and  gave  himself  up  with  great  zest  to 
the  expeditions  of  sightseeing  with  his  sister,  and 
Madame  Reville  and  her  daughter.  Mrs.  Brent  de- 
clared herself  too  old  and  too  lazy  to  visit  museums, 
picture  galleries  and  churches.  She  remained  at 
Rose  Lodge  reading  novels  all  day,  lying  in  the  peace 

333 


334    THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

of  the  shady  garden,  concocting  with  her  cook  strange 
menus  which  she  fondly  imagined  to  be  the  acme  of 
French  cuisine  for  the  delectation  of  her  guests.  No 
amount  of  sojourns  in  foreign  lands  could  alter  or 
even  affect  Mrs.  John  Brent's  British  philistine  soul. 
But  as  she  was  kindness  and  hospitality  incarnate, 
even  her  ever-recurring  lack  of  tact  as  well  as  her 
vain  endeavours  to  acquire  knowledge  of  French 
cooking,  were  very  easily  condoned  faults. 

One  day,  towards  the  end  of  June,  Oliver  asked 
Jacqueline  if  she  had  been  to  the  Academy  to  see  her 
own  picture.  She  was  obliged  shamefacedly  to  ad- 
mit that  she  had  not  done  so.  For  some  reason,  inex- 
plicable to  herself,  though  it  had  been  quite  clear  to 
her  mother,  Jacqueline  had  not  been  able  to  summon 
up  the  courage  to  go  and  look  at  the  picture  Oliver 
had  painted  of  herself.  In  her  present  state  of  mind 
she  was  instinctively  afraid  to  face  the  soul  which  she 
knew  looked  out  of  her  own  eyes  in  Oliver's  picture. 
She  felt  unconsciously  that  she  could  not  confront 
that  expression  of  herself  just  yet.  But  she  could 
not  explain  her  curious  aversion  to  Oliver,  and  for 
the  first  time  in  her  life  was  too  shy  to  seek  for  an 
excuse.  Again  Frangoise,  ever  vigilant,  came  to  her 
daughter's  aid. 

"  You  see,  dear  Oliver,  Jacqueline  has  been  so 
much  taken  up  with  the  collections  of  old  paintings, 
and  with  other  things  of  newer  interest  in  London, 
that  she  has  not  found  time  yet  for  modern  pic- 
tures." 

"  I  understand,"  said  Oliver.    But  though  he  felt 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    335 

pained,  and  showed  that  he  was  hurt,  he  yet  was  con- 
scious of  a  strange  inner  elation  which  he  concealed. 
However,  at  his  expression  of  disappointment  Fran- 
goise  made  another  effort  to  comfort  him. 

"  Perhaps,"  she  said,  "  perhaps  we  all  dimly  felt 
you  would  come  over  at  some  time  or  other,  dear 
Oliver.  And  so  Jacqueline  waited  for  you  to  escort 
her." 

Jacqueline,  who  also  had  noticed  Oliver's  look  of 
painful  surprise  and  had  understood  it,  but  felt  in- 
capable of  any  consolation,  shot  a  glance  of  gratitude 
at  her  mother.  Frangoise  and  Jacqueline  now  un- 
derstood one  another  so  well  that  no  words  were 
ever  necessary  between  them  to  explain  their  almost 
simultaneous  emotional  comprehensions. 

"Well,"  said  Oliver  turning  to  Jacqueline,  "if 
that  is  so,  then  I  propose  taking  you  to  visit  the  Acad- 
emy and  your  own  picture  myself." 

"Can  we  go  down  on  the  top  of  an  omnibus?" 
asked  Jacqueline  with  a  return  of  her  old  archness. 
At  which  remark  an  immediate  fit  of  laughter  burst 
forth  from  Nelly,  Robert  and  the  two  Thornton  girls 
who  were  present,  that  immediately  dispersed  all  trace 
of  conflicting  emotions  between  herself  and  Oliver. 
For  Jacqueline's  love  for  London  omnibuses  had  be- 
come a  regular  mania  with  her,  and  was  treated  as  a 
standing  joke  among  them  all.  But  she  had  won  the 
laughter  of  her  friends  with  intention,  having  sought 
by  her  tone  of  levity  to  disperse  the  feeling  of  con- 
straint between  herself  and  Oliver. 

"  Yes,  of  course  we  can," 


336    THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE 

Arrangements  being  hurriedly  made,  Oliver  imme- 
diately after  lunch  piloted  Jacqueline  down  to  the  red 
omnibus  which  plies  for  hire  between  Kensington  and 
Piccadilly.  There  were  only  two  vacant  seats  on  the 
top,  wl]ich  they  eagerly  seized  upon. 

On  the  way  down  they  had  another  long  conver- 
sation concerning  modern  art  in  France  and  England. 
When  Jacqueline's  admiration  of  Oliver's  mind  had 
been  forced  upon  her,  during  the  painting  of  her  por- 
trait, she  had  been  obliged  also  to  admit  to  herself 
that  no  other  human  being's  conversation  pleased  her 
as  did  Oliver's.  It  was  astonishing  how  sympathetic 
his  ideas  were  to  her,  and  now  she  delighted  in  the 
thought  that  she  had  made  friends  with  him  again. 
For  he  had  entirely  taken  up  his  position  of  friend, 
philosopher  and  intellectual  comrade  once  more.  The 
old  confidence  was  now  resumed  between  them  as  be- 
fore. The  Oliver  whom  Jacqueline  had  discovered  dur- 
ing their  stay  at  Les  Peupliers  was  not  only  necessary 
to  her  intellectual  development,  but  he  had  also  made 
himself  very  dear  to  her  heart.  Indeed,  before  Jerome 
d'Ablis  had  arrived,  and  with  his  compelling  charm 
drawn  Jacqueline's  thoughts  away  from  the  young 
painter,  Jacqueline  had  almost  been  in  love  with 
Oliver.  Frangoise,  "with  her  material  perspicacity, 
had  seen  the  mysterious  change  in  her  child's  feel- 
ings from  the  very  beginning  of  Jerome's  visit,  but 
had  been  powerless  to  defend  her.  And  now  that  the 
danger  had  been  averted,  she  devoutly  hoped  that 
Oliver  would  be  able  to  win  Jacqueline  back  to  him 
once  rnore  by  his  sterling  merits,  both  moral  and 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    337 

mental.  Though  she  was  unable  herself  to  satisfy 
Jacqueline's  demands  for  intellectual  companionship^ 
yet  she  realized  the  immense  force  that  could  be 
wielded  over  Jacqueline's  mind  by  those  who  could 
respond  to  those  claims.  She  made  herself  the  con- 
scious ally  of  Oliver,  and  in  so  far  as  she  was  capable 
of  influencing  her  child — and  her  influence  on  Jac- 
queline's feelings  was  greater  now  even  than  the 
girl  herself  knew — she  taught  her  daughter  to  un- 
derstand the  generous  greatness  of  Oliver's  love. 

During  those  long  summer  evenings  when  it  was 
too  chilly  to  sit  out  in  the  garden  at  Rose  Lodge,  Jac- 
queline and  Oliver  read  books  together,  which  they 
discussed,  sometimes  with  much  warmth.  Often  they 
went  to  a  play  and  were  indeed  much  alone  and 
thrown  into  one  another's  society,  for  about  this 
period  it  was  observable  that  Nelly  was  becoming 
more  and  more  interested  in  Robert  Thornton,  and 
these  circumstances  seemed  to  combine  to  bring  them 
more  than  ever  together.  To  the  great  amusement  of 
Franqoise  and  also  of  Jacqueline,  Nelly  and  her  sport- 
loving  young  admirer  seemed  now  to  have  more  than 
a  mere  predilection  for  one  another's  company,  and 
appeared  to  have  developed  a  continual  craving  for 
one  another's  presence.  Not  only  did  they  go  regu- 
larly to  Lord's  to  attend  the  great  cricket  matches  to- 
gether, but  often  on  Saturday  afternoons,  Robert 
would  take  Nelly  down  to  the  river  and  row  her  about 
for  many  hours  together.  During  these  long  tete-d- 
tetes,  there  was  often  complete  silence  between  them. 
Robert  was  not  a  loquacious  lover,  but  his  face,  as  he  • 


*338    THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

gazed  upon  the  lady  of  his  choice,  was  a  study  in  it- 
self, insomuch  as  it  could  not  conceal  his  feelings. 
One  day,  as  their  boat  lay  supine  on  the  softly  lap- 
ping water  near  a  green  bank  of  the  river,  Robert, 
who  had  been  silent  for  over  an  hour,  gazing  amor- 
ously upon  Nelly,  leaned  towards  her  as  she  lay  on 
the  boat  cushions  patterned  with  Union  Jacks. 

"What  a  ripping  girl  you  are,  Nell!  I  wonder  if 
you  could  put  up  with  a  duffer  likg  me  for  a  hus- 
band?" 

And  Nelly,  blushing  crimson,  looked  at  him  from 
beneath  the  shadow  of  her  broad-brimmed,  flapping 
hat,  and  buried  her  face  deeper  into  the  flag  of  her 
country. 

"  Perhaps  I  could.  Bob,"  she  murmured. 

And  so  they  returned  to  Rose  Lodge  that  evening 
an  engaged  couple. 

They  made  no  immediate  confidence  to  Mrs.  Brent, 
but  the  aunt,  who  adored  her  niece,  observing  the  two 
young  people  when  they  returned  from  the  afternoon's 
expedition,  remarked  to  Frangoise  when  they  were 
alone  together  that  she  would  not  be  surprised  if  the 
"  match  "  between  her  niece  and  Robert  Thornton 
would  "  not  be  long  now  in  being  made !  "  And  Fran- 
9oise,  smiling  indulgently  over  her  everlasting  em- 
broidery, replied  that  if  it  were  so,  she  would  all  her 
life  regret  not  having  been  present  at  Robert's  pro- 
posal! 

When  Jacqueline  and  Oliver  arrived  at  Burlington 
House,  they  went  straight  through  the  crowd  to  the 
room  where  Jacqueline's  portrait  was  hanging.  There 
was    a    thick    agglomeration    of    admiring    visitors 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    339 

around  it,  so  tHat  at  first  the  young  painter  and  his 
model  could  get  nowhere  near  to  the  canvas.  But 
as  the  crowds  moved  away  they  were  able  to  approach 
more  closely,  and  soon  the  proud,  rebellious  face  of 
Jacqueline  could  be  seen  from  afar  towering  over  the 
heads  of  the  nearer  gazers.  Oliver  drew  her  back- 
wards into  a  freed  space  and  called  Ker  renewed 
critical  attention  upon  it. 

Turning  suddenly  towards  her  He  looked  at  her  in- 
tently, comparing  her  features  with  those  of  the  pic- 
ture. 

"  Can  you  see  now  what  I  wanted  to  suggest  to 
you?  But  I  put  it  in  because  I  felt,  I  knew,  that  it 
would  come.    It  lives  there  now,  Jacqueline." 

"  Perhaps,"  said  Jacqueline  slowly  and  with  averted 
gaze.  .  .  .  "  I  do  not  know.  .  .  ."  And 
then  after  a  silence  she  burst  out: 

"Oh  Oliver,  I'm  afraid  that  womanly  expression 
of  tenderness  exists  only  in  your  imagination.  Have 
I  really  ever  had  it?    Shall  I  ever  have  it?" 

"  Yes.  You  did  not  have  it  then.  But  you  have  it 
now,  dominant  there  at  present.  It  is  the  expression 
of  your  soul  itself."  And  Oliver  gazed  upon  Jac- 
queline again  with  all  his  own  ardent  love  in  his  eyes. 
And  Jacqueline,  looking  back  at  him,  unfaltering  this 
time,  saw  that  the  tenderness  he  cherished  for  her 
was  of  the  same  quality  as  that  of  her  mother.  At 
the  very  instant  in  which  she  conceived  the  truth  she 
felt  suddenly  that  a  strange  and  serene  comfort  had 
come  to  her  restless  soul. 

The  numbers  of  the  crowd  had  decreased,  so  by  de- 
grees Oliver  and  Jacqueline  drew  nearer  still  to  the 


340    THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

picture,  and  now  they  were  dose  to  it,  were  almost 
touching  its  frame.  They  spoke  in  a  low,  tense  whis- 
per, both  'entirely  oblivious  of  the  moving  crowd 
around  them.  They  had  almost  forgotten  that  they 
were  not  standing  alone  together  in  the  middle  of  the 
world. 

"  I  knew  that  you  only  lacked  that  expression  to 
make  of  you  the  finest  of  feminine  creatures,  Jacque- 
line dearest,"  whispered  Oliver  again,  his  eyes  on 
hers.  "  So  I  put  your  soul  there  even  before  it  awoke, 
knowing  that  it  would  awake." 

And  then,  after  a  pause  he  added  in  a  low,  more 
intense  voice: 

"  To  be  frank  with  you,  I  must  say  that  I  had 
hoped  to  bring  it  there  myself,  Jacqueline.  But  I 
failed!  I  failed  miserably  .  .  .  notwithstanding 
all  my  love  for  you.  .  .  .  Probably  because,  in 
spite  of  my  own  passion  for  you,  I  was  not  inspired 
with  the  necessary  magic.    Alas !  " 

At  Oliver's  words  Jacqueline's  heart  was  thrilled. 
He  had  spoken  almost  the  very  words  she  herself  had 
said  to  her  mother!  There  was  something  myste- 
rious, marvellous  in  his  divination  of  herself  and  of 
her  inmost  thoughts. 

"Ah!  The  magic!  Then  you  realize  that  too, 
Oliver?  You  understand  that  it  must  exist  in  love, 
if  love  is  to  be  complete?" 

And  she  turned  towards  him  and  gazed  at  him  for 
a  long  time  in  wonder.  She  had  never  looked  upon 
him,  or  upon  any  human  being  with  such  eyes  before. 
And  gradually,  as  if  a  great  mystery  was  slowly  be- 


THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE    341 

ing  revealed  to  her,  she  saw  Oliver  in  another  aspect 
and  he  appeared  to  her  as  another  man  ...  as 
the  only  true  lover  worthy  of  her  nobler  self.  And 
then  at  last,  gently  and  languorously,  her  eyelids  fell, 
covering  her  eyes  from  his  ardent  gaze  and  a  sweet 
and  tremulous  shame  took  possession  of  her. 

"  Yes,  I  understand  it  only  too  well,  Jacqueline. 
...  I  bitterly  regret  that  I  was  not  the  first  to  in- 
spire such  magic  in  your  heart  .  .  .  but  .  .  ." 
And  he  hesitated  as  if  in  fear. 

"  But  what,  Oliver  ?  Please  speak  all  your  thoughts. 
I  value  your  frankness  above  all  things.     .     .     ." 

"But  .  .  ."  resumed  Oliver,  laying  stress 
upon  his  words,  "  If  I  have  not  been  able  to  have 
the  first  love  of  your  heart,  I  will  hope  for  something 
higher  still,  Jacqueline.  I  will  hope  for  the  best  love 
that  your  heart  can  ever  give.  ...  I  do  not 
love  even  Love  itself,  dear  Jacqueline,  so  much  as  I 
love  you.  .  .  ."  Jacqueline  was  silent.  Her 
bosom  heaved  and  tears  rose  in  her  eyes. 

"If  I  cannot  have  the  better  part  of  you,  Jacque- 
line," pursued  Oliver,  "  then  I  will  renounce  you  alto- 
gether.    .     .     ." 

This  was  the  first  time  that  any  reference  had  been 
made  between  them  concerning  the  episode  of  which 
Jerome  d'Ablis  had  been  the  grievous  hero.  Jacque- 
line was  deeply  stirred  when  Oliver  alluded  to  it,  but 
she  made  no  remark,  and  save  for  a  tremulous  move- 
ment of  her  lips  Oliver  might  have  thought  that  she 
had  not  even  noticed  his  allusion.  Persistently,  he 
continued. 


342    THE  EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

"  THat  first  love  of  yours  was  certainly  not  the 
best  you  had  to  give,  Jacqueline.  Some  day  you  will 
know  that." 

"Perhaps,"  said  Jacqueline,  with'  a  sweet,  fugitive 
smile,  which  showed  Oliver  that  he  might  continue  on 
this  perilous  subject  and  yet  be  forgiven.  "  Perhaps 
.    .    .    I  know  that  even    .    .    .    now    .    .    ." 

"  It  was  a  will  o'  the  wisp,  Jacqueline,  unworthy  of 
your  nobler  self  which  is  of  your  brain,  and  of  your 
diviner  self,  which  is  of  your  heart." 

"But  it  was  dieep  ...  It  was  very  deep  in- 
deed. .  .  .  You  must  imderstand  that  .  .  . 
please,  dear  Oliver.  .  .  .  There  is  keen  comfort 
for  me  in  the  possibility  of  being  frank  and  sincere 
with  you;  and  much  solace  in  the  knowledge  that  my 
sincerity  is  understood  and  appreciated  by  you.  I 
assure  you  that  my  plain  speaking  deserves  your  re- 
spect, for  it  costs  me  much  to  own  my  folly.     .     .     ." 

"  Yes  .  .  .  yes  ...  Be  quite  candid 
with  me.  I  love  you  the  more  for  your  truth.  .  .  . 
Bbt,  believe  me,  the  love  you  felt  was  deep  in  the 
senses  perhaps    .     .     .     but  not  in  the  soul." 

"You  think  so,  Oliver?" 

"  I  am  sure  of  that." 

"  But  why  are  you  sure  ?  " 

"  Because  I  love  you,  Jacqueline.  .  .  .  And  I 
realize  that  because  I  love  with  the  best  of  myself,  it 
is  only  the  best  of  yourself  that  could  have  evoked 
that  response  in  me." 

"  But  how  can  you  trust  a  woman  who  tells  you 
frankly  that  she  has  loved  another  man  so  pro- 
foundly?" 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    343 

"That  love  for  another  taught  you  suflFering,  Jac- 
queline ;  and  I  love  you  the  more  because  of  your  suf- 
fering." 

"  But  why,  Oliver,  why?" 

"  Because  it  has  made  you  a  better  woman,  Jacque- 
line. Understand  this,  dearest.  ...  I  love  you 
not  for  what  you  were  then — before  you  mistook  the 
false  for  the  real  and  followed  the  will  o*  the  wisp. 
But  I  love  you  for  what  you  are  now" 

"  Dear  Oliver.  ...  I  am  too  self-willed  .  .  . 
too  headstrong  .  .  .  too  much  of  a  spoilt  child. 
I  could  never  be  a  submissive  wife." 

"  You  are  the  woman  I  love,  Jacqueline." 

"  And  you  want  me,  even  as  I  am  ?  " 

"  I  want  you  exactly  as  you  are,  neither  more 
nor  less." 

Jacqueline  was  silent.  Then  suddenly  she  was  con- 
scious of  the  fact  that  they  were  in  a  public  place  and 
that  the  visitors  to  the  Academy  were  walking  round 
and  crowding  about  them  to  catch  a  sight  of  Oliver's 
picture — the  great  picture  of  the  year.  She  threw 
one  look  at  Oliver,  a  look  which  thrilled  him  to  the 
heart  because  it  held  much  promise,  though  it  did 
not  give  her  soul  to  his  yet.  And  after  a  moment's 
pause,  suddenly  leaving  the  paths  of  sentiment,  she 
reined  in  her  emotions  and  spoke  in  a  more  level 
voice,  though  now  her  eyes  sparkled  again  with  mis- 
chief : 

"  Have  you  quite  decided  that  you  are  not  going  to 
sell  that  picture,  Oliver  ?  " 

But  Oliver,  who  could  not  travel  from  one  mood  to 
another  with  the  same   rapidity  as  Jacqueline,  an- 


344    THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

swered  in  the  same  troubled  voice  in  which  he  had 
spoken  before: 

"  No,  I  can't  ...  I  can't.  ...  It  would  be  like 
selling  my  own  heart,  even  if  you  say  that  I  may.  I 
have  the  best  of  you  there  in  that  picture,  Jacqueline. 
It  is  the  woman  that  my  love  itself  created  ...  I 
can't  let  her  go." 

"Two  thousand  pounds  is  a  great  deal  of  money 
for  you,  Oliver,"  insisted  Jacqueline  temptingly. 

"  I  know  it  is,  but  then  my  Jacqueline  is  far  more 
precious  to  me."  And  he  looked  up  at  the  picture 
again  with  the  love  in  his  face  that  had  transfigured 
him  in  her  eyes  a  few  minutes  before. 

Then  Jacqueline  suddenly  and  spontaneously 
slipped  her  hand  within  his  arm.  He  pressed  it 
gently,  but  his  eyes  still  remained  fixed  on  the  picture 
as  if  in  adoration. 

"  But,"  ventured  Jacqueline,  breaking  the  new  si- 
lence hesitatingly,  her  eyes  demurely  cast  down. 
"But  Oliver  ...  if  ...  if  you  had  the  real  Jac- 
queline— the  original  of  that  picture  for  your  very 
own ! " 

At  first  Oliver  did  not  seem  to  understand  Jacque- 
line's words,  and  then,  as  their  meaning  dawned  upon 
him,  he  suddenly  looked  down  upon  her  face  with 
so  fierce  an  expression  of  almost  delirious  delight 
mixed  with  painful  doubt,  that  Jacqueline  lowered  her 
eyes  again  to  avoid  the  fire  of  his  glance. 

"  Do  you  mean  that,  Jacqueline  ? "  he  breathed 
hoarsely.  "  Do  you  really  mean  that  ?  Or  is  it  your 
infernal    coquetry    prompting    you    again?"     His 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    345 

breath  came  in  short  gasps.  All  his  spirit  rose  in 
tension  against  his  will  to  curb  his  passion.  "  Don't 
play  with  me,"  he  whispered  angrily,  almost  fiercely, 
as  Jacqueline  remained  silent.  "  Do  you  really  mean 
what  you  have  just  said?" 

But  Jacqueline,  unheeding  his  strong  language,  and 
the  violence  of  his  tone,  and  still  pressing  her  hand 
gently  upon  his  arm,  though  she  avoided  his  glance 
and  kept  her  eyes  lowered,  continued  quite  calmly  and 
serenely : 

"We  could  furnish  a  delightful  flat  in  Paris  with 
two  thousand  pounds,  Oliver;  large  enough  to  take 
in  you  and  me  and  maman  as  well,  couldn't 
we?" 

"Jacqueline,  don't  tempt  me.  .  .  .  Don't  play  with 
me  .  .  .  don't  be  cruel.  .  .  .  Don't  be  a  coquette. 
...  It  is  too  serious."  Oliver's  whispered  voice 
was  terrible  and  Jacqueline  feared  that  their  secret 
confabulation  might  reach  the  ears  of  the  people 
around.  Still  standing  close  to  him,  she  waited  for 
a  breathless  second  and  then  drew  yet  nearer  still  and 
whispered  gently  in  his  ear: 

"  I  think,  dear  Oliver,  that  the  true  magic  has  come 
into  my  heart  now  to  stay  for  good." 

Oliver  was  too  moved  to  speak.  But  his  glance 
searchingly  met  Jacqueline's  eyes  that  now  were 
turned  frankly  and  fearlessly  up  to  his. 

What  he  saw  there  quieted  and  reassured  him  at 
once. 

The  unconscious  crowd  in  its  admiration  of  Oli- 
ver's  genius   jostled   around   them    utterl}r   heedless 


346    THE   EDUCATION  OF  JACQUELINE 

of  their  emotion.  .  .  .  But  the  two  people  in  front  of 
the  picture  understood  one  another  at  last,  and  Oliver, 
lifting  his  right  hand,  closed  it  over  Jacqueline's 
trembling  fingers  that  lay  on  his  left  arm.  With 
that  gesture  of  love  and  protection  he  took  possession 
of  her  for  ever. 

They  drove  home  in  a  hansom  cab — in  a  delicious 
solitude  d  deux,  and  hardly  a  word  was  spoken  be- 
tween them. 

Then,  with  mute  accord,  they  went  quietly  in  to  tell 
their  story  to  Frangoise. 

They  found  her  alone,  with  her  embroidery  in  the 
drawing-room. 

"  Maman  cherie!"  said  Jacqueline  triumphantly, 
as  she  entered  the  room :  "  As  I  have  often  told  you, 
you  have  a  perfect  genius  for  mothering.  So  I  have 
brought  you  another  child  to  care  for.  .  .  .  He's 
rather  big  and  grown  up  for  a  little  maman  like 
you  perhaps;  but  probably  you'll  find  that  even  he 
will  need  your  comforting  sometimes,  when  I've  a 
teasing  fit  on.  .  .  .  For  I  won't  promise  you  even 
now  that  I  shall  ever  entirely  renounce  what  you  are 
pleased  to  call  my  *  infernal  coquetry ' ! "  she  said, 
turning  a  radiant  face  to  Oliver  again. 

"My  darling,"  murmured  Frangoise  as  she  gath- 
ered Jacqueline  to  her  heart.  "How  very  deeply 
happy  you  have  made  me.  ..." 

"Maman  cherie"  said  Oliver  with  deep  emotion, 
though  he  made  an  effort  to  join  in  with  Jacqueline's 
more  playful  mood, — "Maman  cherie,  I  have  the 
honour  to  ask  you  for  the  hand  of  your  daughter. 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  JACQUELINE    347 

Jacqueline,  with  your  consent  to  continue  her  educa- 
tion.    It  needs  careful  supervision,  even  now.  .  .  .'* 

"  I  give  her  to  you  with  joy,  Oliver,  for  I  know 
you  alone  will  make  her  happy."  And  turning  to 
Jacqueline : 

"Then  you  are  content,  my  darling?" 

"Yes,  maman  cherie  .  .  .  !"  cried  Jacqueline, 
throwing  herself  once  more  upon  her  mother's  breast, 
and  now  letting  her  happy  tears  fall  unchecked. 

"The  magic  has  come  to  me  at  last,  mother!  I 
found  it  in  Oliver's  heart !  " 


THE    END 


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